


I've Seen Better Days

by BeignetBenny



Series: It's Always Something verse [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Gay Zuko (Avatar), Get Together, Jet (Avatar) Is An Asshole, M/M, Mutual Pining, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Pan American Highway, Past Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Past Sokka/Yue (Avatar), Past jetko, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Road Trips, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Stoner Sokka, Underage Drinking, Zuko and Aang are best friends, but also fluffy, but like not really because they all do in fact get high because it's a roadtrip, minor jetko, more angst than first anticipated ngl, romanticised van life, so i recommend ya'll take a listen, that's what teens do on road trips, the playlist helps with story progression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:29:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 117,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25006204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeignetBenny/pseuds/BeignetBenny
Summary: Much like many sixteen year olds, Aang got a car for his birthday.Unlike every other sixteen year old Sokka had met in his seventeen going on eighteen years of life, the monks who raised Aang insisted it was for a life changing journey across two continents.Maybe Sokka was exaggerating.Maybe Zuko wore those cute bright dolphin shorts exclusively for Sokka's benefit.Maybe Sokka was exaggerating that too.Or; It takes Zuko running away and seeing the world to learn what family means. Sokka already knew what it felt like. It takes Sokka a minor concussion to know what home feels like. Zuko already knew what it meant.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: It's Always Something verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1810435
Comments: 216
Kudos: 373





	1. Well our mamas, they left us

**Author's Note:**

> I finally made the [Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5WuPOJjnm3gz9JR8rzbAkf?si=dl5tirJZT4GIBGGxaI6jQg)  
> This story is best read with this bad boy playing in the background. Enjoy the ride :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a bulky silver SUV that looked to be the size or just smaller than Appa the Second.
> 
> “Is the surprise that your friend is rich?” Sokka said, more so to himself than anyone else solely because the comment had barely escaped before he sucked in a breath.
> 
> _Or, is the surprise that your friend is hot?_

Much like many sixteen year olds, Aang got a car for his birthday.

Unlike every other sixteen year old Sokka had met in his seventeen going on eighteen years of life, the monks who raised Aang suggested it was time for a life changing journey across two continents.

Maybe Sokka was exaggerating. _Just a little._ But it wasn’t like the kid was making any real sense anyway, damnit!

Sokka’s plate had been long clean as he slurpped away at his vanilla and chocolate swirl milkshake. Aang’s elbows on the table were taking up the space the plates had been moments before his announcement. Katara looked on next to Aang, just as excited with his news.

Sokka took another long sip while Aang leaned in closer, his smile, if possible, growing wider.

“And you’re doing this because…?” Katara reached across the table and smacked him upside the head. “Ow! Hey!”

“Does it matter?” She said with a laugh. “It’s an amazing opportunity!”

“Can you even drive?” Sokka asked.

“I mean… a little. That’s why I’m inviting you!” Aang leaned back in the booth. “They don’t want me to go alone. I need an adult.”

“Oh Aang,” Katara teased. “He’s barely an adult.”

“ _I am too an adult!_ ”

“In a month, maybe.”

“So you’ll go?” Aang pouted and clasped his hands together. His eyes were wide as saucers and he quivered his lip to top it all off.

Fuck it, Sokka wasn’t doing anything else with his summer. It might even be fun. “Fine. I’ll go. Just the guys.” Aang’s smile returned and shared a look with Katara that Sokka knew meant trouble. “Just the guys… right, Aang?”

Before Aang had the chance to defend himself, Katara jumped in. “Dad said I couldn’t go unless you came too.”

“That’s cheating!” Sokka slammed his hand on the table and regretted it immediately with a wince. Aang and Katara laughed as he pulled his hand close and cradled it. “You tricked me.”

“I didn’t trick you.” She shrugged. “Gyatso said Aang needed an adult. Dad said I needed you. Two birds with one stone, Sokka.”

“Yeah right,” Sokka huffed. “I doubt Aang even needed an adult anyway. Age is just a concept with them. No offense, Aang.”

“None taken,” Aang tucked his legs underneath himself in his seat. “I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if Gyatso was a hundred years old but he just passes for early seventies because he’s in touch with the Spirit World or something.”

“Are you, Aang?”

He shrugged and glanced down at his phone as a rhythmic drum beat rang out from it. “I try to be. Hence the road trip. Gyatso and Pathik said it should help me… find peace and… open my chak- I’m sorry I gotta-”

Aang smiled apologetically and shuffled his way out of the booth. The smile disappeared as soon as he put his ear to the screen and stepped out of the restaurant. The beginning of the conversation was muted by the wind chimes signaling his exit.

“What was that about?” Sokka leaned onto the table, peaking through the window to try and catch a glimpse of the kid.

“How should I know?” Katara said nonchalantly as if she wasn’t also straining her neck to see.

“Isn’t he your boyfriend? I thought you two would-” He was cut off with another swat.

“Aang is not my boyfriend! He’s… he’s a really good friend. That’s it.”

“Do really good friends just casually invite people on their _spiritual metamorphosis_?”

“He invited you.”

Sokka held his hands up in defense. “No, he told me he needed an _adult_. And as the most responsible person he knows-”

Katara scoffed. “ _Please._ ”

He continued over top of her. “-I accepted. Besides, Gyatso would like me there. You were invited because of his little crush on you.”

“I was invited because it would give me life experience.” She motioned over her head grandly. “I can’t just go through life being boring, Sokka. I’m not boring.”

“Firstly, you are boring.” He dropped back into his seat. “Secondly, is this about the essay?”

Katara rolled her eyes in a huff. “God, Sokka-”

“It’s early admittance.” Sokka defended, grabbing hold of his near empty milkshake glass. “Hell, it’s _earlier_ than early admittance. If you mess it up, you’ll get to do it again. Besides, you could just write about the Rez.”

“I’m not writing about the _Rez_.”

“It’s what _I’m_ doing.” He put a hand to his chest. “What? You think we’re better than a minority percentage to them?”

“ _I am._ ” She stared him down in determination. “I am. I swear, I am. I’m not going to be a fucking statistic for them, okay? I’m bigger than that.”

The ‘ _Even if you aren’t_ ’ was left unsaid.

Usually Sokka would fight her, just to gage a reaction. She had a point though. Sokka was a senior and was only pushing for an Ivy League because their dad didn’t want little Katara to go at it alone. They knew she could make it easily. She was practically a child prodigy in everything she did. All college level classes at nearly seventeen. She was on track to graduate early and then college. Sokka was just…

He was just her big brother.

Columbia was a stretch. No, the city college was a stretch. Columbia was a marathon. Columbia for mechanical engineering was comparable to climbing Mount Everest. Something else Katara had set her mind on to cross off her bucket list by age thirty. Sokka just didn’t get it. Why the drive to be perfect? Who was she competing with? He’d thrown out the proverbial excellence towel years ago. Did he want it? Sure, maybe a little. He wanted something. _Not applying for an ivy league college named after a colonizer with his 3.54 GPA._ But something.

Katara cooled down and she uncrossed her arms. Her attention went back to Aang in the parking lot.  
The phone call was still going. Aang seemed collected enough. There was the smallest amount of tension in his brow but that could have just been due to the uncharacteristically dry heat.

Katara spoke up. “I think dad just wanted you to get out of the house more.”

“I get out of the house.” Sokka insisted, but his defense was barely there. With no more milkshake to work away on, he felt too vulnerable. Too open. Katara always tried to solve things and honestly, Sokka didn’t want to be solved right then. He wanted to think about how Aang got a car from the weird monks who took him in and how he wants to drive down the Pan-American Highway for Nirvana’s sake.

“Yeah, but your only friend is your sister.”

“Aang is my friend.”

“Aang is your friend because _he’s my friend.”_

“Can’t we have the same friends?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I have plenty of friends,” Sokka pressed a hand to his eyes. “Suki’s my friend.”

Sokka couldn’t see her, but he was almost certain the teasing look she had melted away. “Friend is sorta a downgrade.”

“Yeah well, she didn’t seem to think so.” He took a deep breath. “It's fine. We’re fine. We are… better off as friends.”

“Oh… sorry.” Katara hesitated. “Is it about Yu-”

“Maybe.” He cut her off and wiped his hand down to his mouth, then against his throat. Forcing the lump that was beginning to form away. “Maybe. I don’t know. Please just drop it.”

Katara got the gist and slouched back in her seat. It was quiet again for a few moments too long before the jingling of the door came back.

Sokka brought his leg up onto the seat and draped his arm over it. Katara unfolded from herself. They were back to exactly how Aang had left them. No doubts, no disagreements, no Yue.

“Oh good, you finished your milkshake.” Aang noticed on his arrival.

 _And no milkshake._ Sokka would give anything for the glass to magically refill.

“Ready to go?” Aang continued, tucking his phone away. “I can cover it and we can head out.”

Katara began to say something, probably insisting that Sokka could pay for his own meal. But Sokka cut her off, shooting out of his seat. “Absolutely. Thank you kindly, Aang.” He bowed mockingly and Aang matched the movement. 

“We off to your place?” Katara asked, shuffling out of the booth to join them on their way to the cash register up front.

“Yep!” Aang said with a nod and handed the money to the man running the front. “The cars out front I can’t wait for you guys to see it!”

**_-_**

“TAH-DAH!” A bright smile and a dramatic gesture.

“It’s… a van.”

“I named it Appa the second!”

“A van named after your dog?”

Aang dropped his arms down to his side with an eye roll. “Gyatso isn’t letting me bring him. I could probably sneak Momo in though.”

“Aang,” Katara’s voice was forgiving as she put a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think van life is for cats either.”

Van was a… generous title. It looked more along the lines of a metal death trap that would fall apart if the wind picked up with a decorative little “ _VW_ ” on the front. It was probably beautiful in it’s time, but nowhere near it now.

“Aang, I don’t think this thing will make it down the street.”

“We’re gonna fix it up. Make it homey.” He gave a gentle pat to the hood only to get a rattle and clang of metal in response. “See! Appa the Second likes us already.”

“Actually, I think you broke something.”

“Then I’ll just add it to the list of things that need fixing.” Aang, ever the optimist, turned back to face them with a determined grin. “We can start now.”

“Great!” Katara said, matching his enthusiasm as she pulled her hair into a ponytail.

“You’re kidding right?” Sokka huffed.

“The faster we fix it, the faster we leave.” Katara finished her ponytail with a casual flip to return it back to its rightful place behind her shoulder. “I don’t see why you're complaining, you're the one who wants to go into this stuff. You can be the car guy.”

Aang pulled the garage door open to reveal a bunch of manly goodies. The first thing that caught Sokka’s eyes was a mallet and a table with a chainsaw. The smaller tools were scattered about the space like a small saw and paint canisters. Okay, Sokka could maybe _possibly_ be the car guy. 

“Teo and his dad dropped this stuff off for us yesterday and worked on the motor. We should be all good to start.”

They assigned themselves to various jobs they thought would fit best. Katara had designated her time to filing down the spotty paint job that the van had, careful to avoid the vintage details that Aang didn’t really care for but Sokka sure did. After a quick google search to see what it was they were working with. (A 1966 Volkswagen Samba, which seemed important and impressive). Aang worked away on taking out the old wood panel that the past owners had installed and Sokka grabbed the mallet as fast as he could to hammer at the dents on the ceiling from the inside. A convenient way to overpower the casual flirting his sister and Aang always did without noticing.

“Wow Aang, you’re pretty strong.”

_Bang bang bang._

“You could help me in here if you want. You’re pretty strong too.”

_Bang bang bang._

“I’m almost done out-”

_BANG BANG BANG_

A ball of sandpaper was thrown at him like a fast pitch and only after Sokka skillfully managed to dodge it, did he turn on music to drown them out instead. It made his attempts a little less obvious all while making people partake in his music taste. It was a win/win. Especially since he was the designated car guy who would drive the majority of the time giving him majority control of the radio. Win/win/win.

The bass of a Thin Lizzy song began when Sokka scaled his way to the roof of the kombi as Katara protested.

“What the hell are you-”

“I’m testing it!” He defended himself. “People tie shit up here all the time. It should be able to hold things like a kayak and all of our luggage.”

“We should get a kayak.” Aang stood up in the car and knocked a few times on the roof. “And a sled. And we can decorate every-”

“With what money?” Sokka meant it as a joke, but Aang hesitated.

“We might have another guest.” He admitted. “I don’t know yet.”

“Do we know them?” Katara offered, peaking into the doors that were swung open.

More hesitation. “Uh… sort of. He’s a friend. You’ll like him if you get to know him.”

“If he comes with us, you mean.” Sokka laid on his stomach and held on tight to the roof as he dropped his head just enough to see Aang, Katara, and the rest of the world upside down. “No more surprises until the trip starts. Okay, Aang?”

“But surprises make it so much more fun.”

There was a rumble from across the street and Sokka had to work harder than he should have to get himself right side up again. When he did manage it, he settled himself cross legged and wiped the sweat off of his brow.

A counter beat drowned out Sokka’s speakers as the rumble of the car stopped. Sokka couldn’t quite place the song before that cut off as well.

“See?” Aang hopped out of the other side of the van. “Surprise.”

It was a bulky silver SUV that looked to be the size or just smaller than _Appa the Second._

“Is the surprise that your friend is rich?” Sokka said, more so to himself than anyone else solely because the comment had barely escaped before he sucked in a breath.

_Or, is the surprise that your friend is hot?_

He wore tight bright red dolphin shorts that practically glowed compared to his pale skin. Sokka didn’t want to admit that was the first thing he noticed as he climbed out of the car, locking it behind him. Other than the dark sunglasses and shaggy hair that covered near half his face, of course. Aang set his tools down and ran down the driveway to meet up with this _“mystery guy.”_

“How did it go?” Aang asked as he pulled the mysterious kid into a hug that he didn’t seem too excited to get. After some hesitation he hugged back.

“I need to talk to Gyatso.”

“He’s inside.” Aang glanced back at them before stepping in front of the mystery kid. Aang didn’t have near enough height to obscure him, especially from Sokka atop the van, but he could still tell there was something the two of them were trying to hide.

“He looks way too cool to be his weed guy, don’t you think?” Sokka asked. Katara shouldered her body into the van to get it to rock, giving Sokka a minor heart attack as he spent that half second writing his will in his mind. He didn’t get much farther than _Absolutely nothing goes to Katara._ “What?”

“Some of us aren’t degenerates, Sokka.” She said with a huff.

“Coming from you?”

“ _Hey-_ ”

“Is your Uncle here?” Aang lowered his voice, Sokka could barely make out what he said over the guitar coming from his own speakers.

“He’s in the car.”

“Zuko-”

“What? I rolled the windows down for him. Would you rather I left water and a snack too?”

Aang grabbed hold of mystery kid’s, _Zuko’s_ , wrist and tugged him back down the street to the metallic land cruiser. Once he made it to the car, Aang let go of him and threw the passenger side door open and flung himself inside while laughing. Zuko stood outside, arms folded over his chest. Without the comparison of Aang’s height beside him, he looked so small.

Sokka could have sworn he’d heard that name before. Maybe they went to school together, maybe Aang had mentioned him before. Either way, Sokka couldn’t stop himself from admiring him. Just a little.

He was all leg, maybe due to the height of the shorts. Again, Sokka wasn’t complaining. The overshirt he wore was a white short sleeve button up with swirling designs across his shoulders in a deep maroon while the shirt he wore underneath was black and thin. The sun had made Sokka a sweaty mess but for this _Zuko_ guy it was doing wonders. A light shine all over the visible skin.

He turned his back to them and pushed his sunglasses onto his head, taking his bangs with them. Sokka couldn’t make out exactly what it was he was saying, but the scratchy tenor still managed to carry the roughly twenty feet they were away from each other.

Then, Aang turned to face him and Sokka was almost certain he saw a switch flip in the _happy-go-lucky-kid-who-named-his-car-after-his-dog_ ’s mind.

“ _Holy shit._ ” It was almost whispered, like Aang was caught off guard and the breath was ripped from him. The look in his eyes was something Sokka didn’t even know the sixteen year old was capable of. Like hundreds of years of rage was building up inside his little teenage body. It felt weird to intervene, but Sokka was sure that if he hadn’t, Aang’s eyes would start to glow or something.

“I didn’t know you knew how to cuss, Aang!” Sokka pushed himself upward so he’d be standing on the sturdiest part of the roof.

Zuko and Aang glanced back at him, and for just that moment, Sokka understood the anger. His and Zuko’s gaze met for a half second of pure electricity, before he turned back and pushed his glasses down again. They went back to talking, and Sokka’s feelings would have been slightly wounded at their ignoring him, but he got it. He got it in seconds. If Zuko’s hair wasn’t so shaggy, Sokka would have noticed it earlier.

Instead of more shining pale skin underneath the overgrown bangs and large sunglasses, there was red. An angry red and pink patch that clung to his skin and crawled all the way back to his left ear, deforming everything in its path. The worst part of it all wasn’t its presence in the first place. Not even that Zuko needs to have it hidden. Sokka could feel himself staring even when the sunglasses were back in their place. He couldn’t imagine having a hundred sets of eyes just like his glued on that one extreme imperfection. The worst part was that it was a _scar._ That burn was as good as it was going to get for a long time, if not for the rest of his life.

Katara hadn’t noticed it, already abandoning her station by the mirrors in the front of the car to the shaded interior. The sound of snapping wood and flip flops on asphalt brought him back to reality. Aang, Zuko, and an older man who Sokka assumed was his uncle walked past them and into the house.

“Sokka! If you don’t get your fatass off of the roof we’ll have to fix it again!” Katara called from below, banging on the ceiling’s interior a few times just to get her point across. Sokka made his way down to the hood slowly, careful not to crack the window anymore than it already was, and hopped off the car onto hot concrete.

“What do you think happened?” He asked, joining his sister in the car as she finished tearing off the last few slats of warped wood that Aang had apparently deserted.

“It’s not our place to know, Sokka.” She hummed and sat back on her heels. “I haven’t seen Aang that angry before.”

“So you were looking too?”

“Of course. It’s kinda hard to ignore it.” The two of them were quiet for a moment, no doubt trying to hear the conversation inside through the open windows of the living room converted office. Katara reached for the speaker and turned it down a few notches. The encompassing voice of Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros faded into the infamous stomping and clapping of the Lumineers.

With the music that low, they could only catch a few words.

_Lawyer. Emancipate. Jail. Stay._

Katara spoke up first. “Maybe they met in the foster system?”

“Not if his uncle is his guardian.” Sokka suggested, leaning back on the platform where the bed would be eventually. “But Zuko… he looks familiar right?”

“That’s Zuko?” Katara sat up boltright. “How’d you know his name?”

“Aang said it. Why does that-”

“I think that’s Ozai’s kid.” The sympathy Sokka had for him melted away just at the thought of him being related to a fucking monster.

“No he’s not.” Sokka insisted, but even his own voice was betraying him. They stood up to peak out of the open van doors. Both clung to the roof to keep their balance.

Aang sat on the windowsill, running his hands through the blinds every few seconds. Probably something of a nervous habit, or maybe just to have something to do with his hands after the surprising display of anger earlier. Aang had no right to be angry if what Katara said was true. Ozai was horrible to their community. Horrible to _Aang_. So what? It’s a burn on the enemy. The dude probably deserved it.

Then he saw Zuko again. Pacing past the window, glasses pushed up, and bangs out of the way again. His expression was unreadable, but then again, the constant swaying of the blinds didn’t help. Every once and awhile there was a glimpse of hazel eyes that looked damn near golden. Just like the eyes on the billboard they passed everyday.

Probably just like the last eyes their mother ever saw.

There was a break in the music when he heard Aang speak up. “-can just leave, right?”

Zuko stopped pacing in front of him. “I lost.” He said it like that was answer enough.

“You lost when you were seventeen.”

“It’s bullshit.”

“You turned eighteen like a week ago. Legally he can’t do anything to-”

“ **_Does this look fucking legal?!_ **” The blinds closed.

Then the window was locked.

Spotify asked if they wanted a break from the ads.

Sokka was still angry, he wasn’t sure at what anymore. He looked over to see if his sister felt the same. Her disdain had softened ever so slightly, but it was still there. Zuko was still an enemy, simply by proxy. Yet, by the sound of it, Ozai wasn’t on his good side either.

Sokka laughed, he didn’t mean to, but he laughed. There was no proof that the burn even was from Ozai. Something in him hoped that it was to prove a point. Every other part of him hoped it wasn’t for Zuko’s sake. Katara shot him a glare. “Bad timing. Ignore me.”

“I’m glad you have some sense of self preservation.” Katara huffed and went back into the car.

Another Lumimneers song began and the smile Sokka was accidentally sporting faded. He was still peeking. Every few seconds there was another shift of the blinds. One time it was Aang merely leaning back, only to pull forward almost just as fast. Probably after Gyatso fussed about ruining the blinds. Then another one was the older man, Zuko’s uncle, peeking out. He glanced around, caught Sokka’s eye and gave a little wave before closing it again.

The final time it was because the window was unlocked and pulled open again. Gyatso peaked his head through with a smile, but through the shifting vertical vinyl slats he saw Zuko. His head was down in his hands and his shoulders were shaking. Aang sat next to him with a comforting hand on his back, leaning very close and whispering something Sokka couldn’t hear over broken sharp breaths and the Bleachers song that just started uncomfortably juxtaposed over the scene.

“You two have been working so hard,” Gyatso called out. “There is some iced tea and fruit pies in the kitchen! But just…” He looked back at the scene behind him.

Aang shouted back “Just go through the backyard!”

“But the garage is-” Katara began to shout, but Aang cut her off.

“Please?” Gyatso looked back at them and smiled again, this time more strained, and slid the window closed.

Aang seemed desperate, but Gyatso was inviting. As the blinds shifted to a halt he saw the older men talk to each other before Zuko’s uncle bowed and turned to leave.

Sokka didn’t bother making sense of the backyard comment, when those famous fruit pies were mentioned he already began his march around the house. It wasn’t until Katara caught up and spoke that he even realized the request was off putting.

“The garage would have been faster.” She commented, dusting off her hands on the back of Sokka’s shirt.

“Hey!” He pulled away, tripping a few more steps forward. “This is new!”

“I’m just saying,” She shrugged. “It’s just weird.”

“It’s a big house.”

“No I get that but…” Katara sighed, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “It’s just Aang’s in a really weird state right now and-”

“Probably because of Zuko.”

“Well, I don’t care about Zuko so it’s not about him…” They made it to the backyard and were greeted with a few of Aang’s foster siblings running around and chucking a ball at each other with no real intent. Katara pulled the sliding door open and the rich smell of fruit pies and fresh tea reached his nose. On instinct his stomach growled and he went to reach for the snacks, before Katara stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. “But, it _is_ weird, right?”

Admittedly it took Sokka longer to get it than it should. They had been to the house many times in the years they had known Aang. The layout was familiar, the bustling of children moving in and out was familiar, even the room dedicated for prayer that was blocked off with room dividers was nothing but a second glance anymore. Yet, they had never been to the front room.

And that’s where Zuko was.

Sokka knew it was something like Gyatso’s office where he’d meet with troubled kids or their case officers on the daily. It was separated from the back of the house, and was only reachable from the front door and the garage’s second entrance. Nobody was ever allowed in there except Gyatso, the other guardians, and then the case workers of the kids who would end up in their home.

That’s where Zuko _and Aang_ were.

Before Sokka could truly acknowledge his sister, the door slid open again and Aang came through. He looked like he had calmed down, but there was still an edge to the way he walked. The bandana he wore had fallen down his face and settled on his neck, leaving the little hair he had to spike every which way. Without a word, he walked to the tea jug that sat on the counter.

“Aang,” Katara began taking a tentative step towards him. “What was that?”

He looked back and smiled, like nothing had even happened. “Oh! It was nothing. I was just helping Gyatso with-”

“Don’t lie.” Her voice was steady, and Aang’s smile wavered for a moment.

He turned back to the jug and pulled out four cups before walking over to the freezer looking for ice trays. “I’m not lying. I’m just… I’m just not allowed to talk about it.”

“That was Zuko.” She pressed. “Ozai’s _Zuko_ , right?”

“He’s my friend.”

“How?” Sokka spoke up, walking over so he could sit at the counter. “Do you know how much damage he’s done?”

“Well it wasn’t Zuko who did them.” Aang defended. He twisted the ice tray until all the cubes were free and he could fill up each one. He pushed two of them towards the siblings and filled them with the iced green tea. “He’s just his kid.”

“You can’t just be someone’s kid. It’s in his blood.” Katara scoffed as she grabbed her tall glass.

“You don’t know him like I do.”

“I know his father is why my mother is dead.”

Aang looked sympathetic for a moment, holding the heavy jug close to his chest. He sighed, then finished filling up the other two. “I know Ozai is a bad man. He’s horrible. But you can’t put that on Zuko, okay? He’s trying to be better.”

Sokka and Katara didn’t speak up. Aang took that as a sign to continue. “I’m trying to convince him to come with us. He’s hopefully gonna help us fix Appa the Second up too.”

“Why?” Katara challenged, but her voice wasn’t near as aggressive.

Aang only shrugged. “Gyatso wanted us to go with an adult.”

“I’m an adult.” Sokka insisted. “ _I was the adult._ ”

“Well then we can have another.” He grabbed the two glasses. “More the merrier, right?”

“Aang, what’s going on?” Katara insisted. “Really.”

Aang started to say something, but was cut off when the glass doors slid open one more time. In stepped Zuko alongside Gyatso. His eyes were red, well redder than they already were, and

he looked worn out. Like the last few drops of life that Sokka had seen in him earlier were officially drained.

Aang walked over to them. “I was coming right back.”

“Don’t treat me like a child, Aang.” Zuko spoke, his voice cracking just enough to prove that it was him who was sobbing earlier.

“I wasn’t-”

“You haven’t even cut the pie yet!” Gyatso spoke up, the comment directed at Sokka more so than anyone else. He made his way into the kitchen and began slicing and serving. 

Aang sighed and handed the glass over to the older teen. “Sokka, Katara, this is Zuko. Zuko, this is Sokka and Katara.”

Zuko was polite about it, he reached out and shook both of their hands. Sokka may have held on a little too long when he noticed the barely noticeable bruises up his arm. Zuko may have pulled away a little harder than he meant to.

“Hi.” Katara was guarded.

“Hey, it’s good to see you, Zuko.” Sokka was cautiously optimistic. One of them had to be. The tension in the room was just a little too heavy. “Well, the right side of you. The left side is kinda… a lot.”

Sokka almost apologized instantly. He could have blamed it on his discomfort or his mistrust of the teen. Instead there was just the beginning of a smile tugged on the corners of Zuko’s lips, or maybe Sokka was just mistaken.

“You are not the first person to say that.”

“Really?”

“Surprisingly enough, no.” Zuko took a sip. “I say it to myself every time I look in a mirror.”

“Oh well,” Sokka laughed nervously. “Great minds, I guess.”

“Am I making you uncomfortable, Sokka?” The question caught Sokka off guard. He glanced over to Aang, but the younger teen made no motion to intervene. Nor did Katara. _Great, he might have pissed off the most powerful eighteen year old in the Mid-Atlantics._

“In like, a scary way or a sexy way?” Sokka entertained, not expecting for the choked reaction of Zuko. _Better than angry._

“Pardon?”

“In a scary way or-”

“I know what you said.”

“So which is it?”

“I should be asking you.”

“Well, which one do you want answered?”

“ _...Scary_?” Zuko was holding onto his glass a little too tight, the beginning of a tremor in his hands was cued by the clinking of the ice against the glass. “Scary. I guess.” The second time he was more sure. But the tremor was still there.

“Then yeah. Just a little,” Sokka admitted with a nod. “I’m sorry it happened. Nobody deserves that.” He didn’t expect to say that. He didn’t even know he meant it until that moment. Zuko’s icey persona melted just slightly. Sokka didn’t expect that either.

“There is orange, blueberry, strawberry, and lemon!” Gyatso intervened, setting out a few of the pre-sliced pieces. He made sure each had some of the colorful whipped cream atop them. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be helping Iroh gather Zuko’s things.”

“You won’t need to. There wasn’t a lot.” Zuko cut in. It wasn’t until Zuko ripped his gaze from Sokka’s that he even realized they were watching each other. Sokka because he couldn’t see the family resemblance passed the eye color and Zuko because…

Well Sokka hoped it was because of his scary vs sexy comment and not that he could remember the news reports.

“Oh, I insist.” Gyatso set a plate in front of Sokka, _lemon tragically_ , and a blueberry slice in front of Katara. There was no resistance from his sister when he switched the plates.

“Trust me,” Zuko huffed. “I was rushing… There’s only one bag.”

Gyatso frowned at that. “We can send someone to your father’s house to pick up your things.”

“I won’t be here long enough for that to be necessary, right?”

“Well-”

“Right?” The ice was back, yet Zuko managed to look like he could just as easily burst into flames. “Plus there’s security and my father isn’t home. My boyfriend might bring over a few of my things that I left with him.”

“Might?” Aang looked up from his glass. “Zuko does he even know-”

“He’ll find out soon enough anyway. He’s just-” Zuko interrupted himself with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Can you show me to my room?”

Aang hesitated with a look from Katara to Sokka and then settled on Gyatso. His eyebrows were knit together and he looked as if he wanted to ask for help. Help for what or why or even from who was hard to tell. He set down the drink instead. “Yeah. There’s a spare bed in mine, usually Appa sleeps there but… but you can have the top bunk if you’d like.”

Zuko nodded and stepped back, waiting for Aang to lead the way. Gyatso excused himself through the backyard and the other two teenagers ascended the stairs.

Zuko looked back at them halfway up the stairs with a tight smile and a wave. “It was nice meeting you two.”

The pleasantry didn’t reach his eyes.

The next few weeks they fell into a routine. The late May turning early June heat would make the pavement damn near untouchable. Sokka left his old hockey knee pads at Aang’s house three days in. Katara dedicated three pairs of old shorts to the cause. Aang’s hands developed calluses and he sweat through five headbands. Oil and paint had permanently embedded itself underneath Sokka’s fingernails and he had to get a splint for his right ring finger after an incident including the mini-est of mini fridges and an ill-timed hand off. They tried frying an egg on the hood (it worked). Aang tried to get Katara not to yell at them after accepting a dare to try said hood cooked egg. (it didn’t).

The cycle repeated. The kneepads tore up on the asphalt. More basketball shorts and old t-shirts from summer camps ended up in Aang’s laundry despite the size being women’s medium and men’s larges. Spray paint stains didn’t wash fully but they sure as hell stained most everything else.

Another headband.

Iced tea in designated hydroflasks prepared before they’d arrive in the morning. Food brought outside on styrofoam as the sun set. Blankets around midnight when Katara and Sokka didn’t want to make the drive home. They might as well get used to nights under the stars again. Aang might as well get used to it for the first time.

Another headband.

More tea.

More clothes.

Splinters.

Paint fumes.

Five trips to Goodwill. Two to the local junk yard. A dollar store trip.

A gift from her dad was an intricate compass.

A gift from his dad was a well loved machete.

A gift from his guardian was a prayer for safety. Aang said it was good enough. Katara said it was because he had already given him the car. Sokka said it was because they used his debit card for snacks to last two months max.

Katara painted the cabinets inside with intricate white lines that mimicked a swirling sea. Sokka installed the sink and water tank. Aang introduced the true Appa to _Appa the Second_. Appa slobbered over the upholstery and took a test bite at the decorative fairy lights that lined the floor. Appa the Second sputtered to a halt the next time they test drove it and blamed it on the battery being sabotaged by dog drool. Sokka reinstalled the lights on the ceiling and designated the floor to floor purposes only. Katara bought a cork board with her own money and installed it the same day. The first picture on it was a drawing Sokka had done on the back of a napkin from the local diner. A lady on the moon. Or in the moon. It may have been Sokka’s drawing but it was the distant thought of Yue that made him do it. Sleeping under the stars made him think like that. Not accurate, but sentimental.

Maybe it was just her _as_ the moon.

The second picture was of _Appa Prime_ (Appa number 1, Slobber Appa, Appa the first, The one with teeth, the dog one).

The third was of the van, with the three of them sitting atop. The details had just been reattached and Aang had painted an arrow on the roof down to the split windshield. They decided to skip out on the pop top camper. They were short enough to. And Sokka could crouch if he needed.

Another headband, this one red and gold and more expensive than the bandanas.

“Zuko gave it to me.”

_That’s right… their surprise guest._

He hadn’t seen much of Zuko since the first day, but he was certain he still lived there. The few run-ins were more akin to a ghost sighting than a friendly greeting. If they were friends at all.

Of course there were Aang’s casual mentions of the probable heir to Ozai’s fortune. But they were just that. Casual mentions.

_“Zuko’s uncle dropped this off for us.”_

_“His boyfriend is kinda rude.”_

_“God, Zuko HATES Momo. Probably because Momo can climb and always ends up on his bed.”_

The first real life sighting felt like catching BigFoot march across his backyard. It was during an invite to dinner inside the home by one of the women who helped run it. He was pretty sure her name was Iio and he was positively sure the tofu was a little too flavorless for him. Sokka splashed the only sauce available to him onto the sauteed soybean cubes. The heat started on his tongue and quickly made it to the back of his throat. The backing soundtrack of his rush to the sink and accidental waterboarding was laughter. Barking laughter. Sharp laughter. Laughter with a point of his finger and eyes squeezed shut and gripping the banister to keep his balance as he slowly sank to the closest stair to sit. He was totally making fun of him, and so were the others in the home. Their teasing burned, but nowhere near the same heat as Zuko’s.

The red dolphin shorts were back and he had more color to his skin. His hair must have been tied back hastily as his laughter caused stray hairs to fall down onto his face. His shirt was oversized and navy blue with familiar lettering that read “Southern Bears Community Hockey: Nome, Alaska.” Men’s large.

It had been too big on Sokka too.

Zuko laughing. Zuko wearing his clothes. Zuko with his hair mussed so perfectly that it frames his face.  
If it wasn’t for the near drowning he would have wanted to live in that moment. There was a third entire different settling in his stomach from the sauce. Nowhere near the embarrassment from the others and the heat in his chest from looking at Zuko and thinking…

_Home._

Zuko looked like home. Zuko looked like home in the same way Yue was the moon. Not at all accurate, more so sentimental.

Golden eyes on a billboard and a seven AM emergency news report turned off quick because the reporter said her name wrong. She deserved better.

They all deserved better.

_Fuck, he did look like home. That wasn’t a good thing._

The second time was two days before they left. Katara had gotten their father to pick her up earlier because of a scholarship essay she needed to complete. Aang had retired for the night an hour after. Leaving just Sokka and Appa the Second.

The night had cooled down. Calming the inherent drama that was the early June moist heat of Upstate New York. Aang had insisted it wasn’t that bad, but he was from there so it didn’t count. Not to mention the comment was the same day as the egg experiment.

“Why are you still-” Sokka sat up fast and banged his head against the ceiling of the van. Despite the pain making his vision swim and his ears ring, he heard the gentle _whoosh_ of fabric (probably a blanket. It was about time for a blanket) as it fell to the ground and a string of curses. The van dipped as more weight climbed in and sat down on the full sized bed they had installed that day.

“Shit, I am so sorry. Aang just told me to check up on you. Are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up?” Sokka moved one hand up while the other kept pressure on his now throbbing forehead. He managed to open one eye and make out three fuzzy lines. Behind it was a figure blocking the light of the moon.

“Three.” The other eye opened and the figure cleared. Zuko’s hair was down and messy. Dark circles sagged off of his eyes and he was wearing his black shirt from the first day they met. He hadn’t realized it was sleeveless then. Hadn’t realized it was cotton and just a little see through then either. Zuko had gone quiet, his expression screwed up in worry. His hand had dropped back down to the bed. “You not answering is making me doubt the whole three thing.”

“It was three.” Zuko stood up with much more care of his height and surroundings then Sokka had been. “I can run inside and get you an ice pack or-”

“You’re good,” Sokka dismissed as he sat back up, sure to keep his head ducked just a little. He reached for the mini fridge that had sprained his ring finger a few weeks before and pulled out a blue frozen gel pack. “Rule number 1 of Boy Scouts is to always be prepared.” The chill made him hiss in relief as he pressed it to his quickly bruising head.

Zuko pursed his lips and sat back down, his eyes glued to the ice pack. “Rule number one is to keep the campsite clean.”

“Ah, that’s why they wanted you.” Sokka pulled the gel pack away from his face to point at the other teenager. “They wanted a big bad Eagle Scout. You took my spot of official adult on Aang’s little field trip.”

“I didn’t make it past Tiger. A first grade level of wilderness knowledge isn’t exactly useful,” Zuko grabbed hold of Sokka’s wrist. He had hoped the shiver that ran down his spine wasn’t obvious. Or, if it was, that Zuko thought it was because of the ice. He put the pack back to Sokka’s forehead and reached his left hand to the back of his head to keep him steady. Sokka hadn’t even noticed he was swaying. “Would you believe me if I said I dropped out to take dance instead?”

“Depends on what kind.”

“It was ballet. But I was kinda shitty at it and stopped when I was ten so I don’t think it was worth it either.”

“That’s tragic,” Sokka hummed, happy to realize his world had stopped spinning and his tongue wasn’t slurring anymore. “I bet you’d look great in a leotard.”

He laughed. It wasn’t as sharp as the hot sauce incident. It wasn’t anything like it. It was one clear sound that made its way out of Zuko’s throat. And by the looks of it, it had surprised him. The next chuckle was suppressed in tight lips that Sokka almost wanted to lean forward and-

 _NO._ **_Bad Sokka._ ** _Zuko is the enemy. Zuko is home in the worst way possible. Zuko is a golden eyed billboard. Zuko is a warehouse fire. Ozai was the monster but Zuko was the ghost. It’s in his blood and he’s the worst parts of home. Ozai was the monster._

Zuko looked near translucent in the moonlight. Even his deep scar looked more rose than an angry red. His expression was soft and he whispered another apology. He shifted the ice pack a little further into Sokka’s hairline and cradled the nape of his neck. Sokka’s head eased backwards.

_Ozai was the monster, but Zuko was the ghost._

“You’re Ozai’s son.” He didn’t mean to acknowledge it out loud, but he did need to hear it for himself sooner rather than later. Something unrecognizable passed over Zuko’s expression before it settled back to one of concern. His palms were sweating against Sokka’s neck.

“For what it’s worth,” Zuko began. His voice, a forced neutral. “I hate him too.”

Zuko’s thumb worked gentle circles where hair met skin. Sokka couldn’t help the contented sigh that he let out. “It’s worth way more than you realize.” 

“That’s good.” Zuko shifted, bringing the two just inches away from each other’s faces. His knee pressed just enough against the outer part of Sokka’s thigh. He breathed a little harder.

_Ozai was the monster. Zuko was the ghost._

_He wasn’t his father. He couldn’t be._

Sokka experimentally focused his half lidded eyes forward only to see an unmistakable gold. It was jarring in the cool lightning of the night. The billboard never looked that kind. The man giving a half assed apology on live television couldn’t speak that softly. Couldn’t pronounce his name right either.

“Sokka?”

“He’s a piece of shit.” Sokka didn’t mean to interrupt at first, but then there was another laugh. It was freer. This time he got two sounds before it was muffled. Maybe it was on purpose if that’s what the response got. He couldn’t tell. Maybe he was a little concussed or a little high because of the paint fumes or a little intoxicated at the realization that the sweatpants Zuko wore were very much his own.

“You’re right.” Zuko pulled away, just for a moment. Sokka couldn’t help but lean forward.

“I used to have nightmares about him as a kid.” That one didn’t get a laugh, but the urge to take it back wasn’t there that time. Zuko dropped his hand lower and Sokka’s head tilted back just a little more. The fairy lights danced into his vision.

“I still do.” Zuko moved even closer. Maybe Sokka was falling back. Maybe if he just kept falling Zuko would keep getting closer. Now his knee dug into his thigh even harder. Sokka couldn’t help but notice the beige paint stain near his ankle. _Yep, definitely Sokka’s pants._ “It doesn’t help that I favor him.”

That took Sokka out of his trance in an instant. He sat forward and Zuko inched back. Before he could retreat entirely, Sokka pulled Zuko’s wrist down into his lap. Taking the coolness of the ice pack with him. “What makes you say that?”

_Golden eyes on a billboard. That was literally it._

“Everyone says that.”

“Whose everyone?”

“I don’t know. Just... _Everyone._ ”

 _Fuck everyone._ Sokka wanted to say. _And fuck me for even thinking about him when I look at you. But also… like, fuck me._

“I mean, it’s just the eyes.” He shrugged, the ice in his lap was suddenly way more helpful than his forehead.

“The hairline, the nose, the bone structure,” Zuko pointed to each detail on his face as if it was obvious. “The only thing I had that was my mom’s were the eyes. My dad’s eyes are brown in person. Light brown, but brown. The gold catches light better and is easier to spot on a highway or a thirty second commercial. His persona has my eyes. Therefore I have his.”

 _Ozai was the monster and Zuko was one of his victims._ Zuko was so hyper aware of his existence and Ozai probably did that to him too. Sokka should have thought about the eye thing. In retrospect it was always jarring. They never looked real. But Zuko’s were real and warm and his mother’s.

_Holy shit they were his mom’s._

_That burn looked precise. Like the goal was to take out half of him._

**_Ozai was the fucking monster._ **

“Is that what ‘Everyone’ says?” Sokka prayed to the creators and the spirits and anyone who was listening that he managed to hold back how angry he was. Zuko didn’t deserve the anger. Not when his hands were so warm and the comforting circles at the back of his skull hadn’t stopped.

“Yeah.” Zuko sounded distant again. Sokka wanted to pull him close or at least have his knee dig into his thigh again. As if he wasn’t also already holding his hands. As if he hadn’t first met this guy two weeks ago. As if this guy hadn’t almost pissed himself laughing over Sokka’s misfortune two nights before.

“I’m not saying it…” Sokka was just scared earlier. Their eyes were nothing alike. They look nothing alike. “Am I Everyone?”

“... No,” No nervous laugh. Just a smile. A small one that Sokka wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t had his eyes trained onto Zuko’s lips for maybe a moment too long. “No, I don’t think you are.”

Sokka felt himself go silent as he became increasingly aware of the icepack on his crotch with Zuko’s hand on top of it. The smell of spray paint and ginger that probably came from Zuko’s shaggy hair mixed and made his head spin. Or maybe that was the probable concussion.

Could totally be the probable concussion.

“Zuko?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you _are_ making me uncomfortable.”

It took a second for Zuko to realize before the confusion melted into a damn near devilish smirk. “In a scary or sexy way?”

“I’ll have to get back to you on that.”


	2. And our papas took a ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That was a stretch, he didn’t hate himself.
> 
> He hated how he would look in the mirror and see his father staring back at him. His father with a death threat when Zuko would speak up. His father with his hand gripping Zuko’s shoulder too hard to keep him still. His father leaving a electric stove on during a fight that Zuko had been avoiding for months. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw for depiction of abusive relationships in this chapter because both Ozai and Jet are assholes. But don't worry this is as bad as it will be the rest of the fic will be a lot softer

Zuko was one of the lucky ones.

He knew how he looked compared to the children around him. They were all orphaned or abandoned. Whereas Zuko’s lineage was proudly displayed in seventy-three different warehouses, an estate in the Catskills, on the back of fliers from an abandoned campaign platform in the nineties only to be reignited in the last two months, and the Meiji Restoration Museum.

They had no money unless it was donated to those who ran the group home or given to them by the state. Zuko had a black luxury credit card that he had yet to discover the limit despite losing it on a cruise and supposedly spending three thousand eight hundred and thirty-six dollars in roughly fifteen seconds without his bank even sending a concerned email.

They had little, Zuko had plenty.

They didn’t get the choice in where they ended up when everything went to shit. Zuko chose it out of four different options.

One of them, of course, being the estate in the Catskills. Azula had called it the night of the incident. All parties involved decided to jetset to avoid the aftermath, as if she’d be in trouble anyway. She just watched. Maybe laughed. Left before it got worse.

She probably would have said he deserved it anyways.

Azula always lies.

Iroh had offered his home. A two bedroom apartment in the city. Zuko turned it down solely because his lawyer had told him to. _If you’re trying to erase your father from your history, that means everyone and everything on his side too._

It was a bad lie at best or dirty fine print at worst. Iroh still insisted on coming upstate for the trial. He booked an extra two weeks when the court was in Ozai’s favor. Then another as he sat beside Zuko’s hospital bed. Zuko begged his uncle to cut his hair short for him while he was in the hospital, but his uncle insisted that Zuko be fully conscious to make the decision again. In the middle of the night he had found a sharp scalpel one of the nurses had left and he sawed away as much hair as he could under the harsh sterile light despite his impaired vision. Iroh came in the morning after, evened out the cut, and booked another three weeks. At that point he should have just rented an apartment up near him.

There was Jet. A boyfriend officially but more akin to a partner in crime. He was all bruising kisses and bite marks. Hard shoves and blunt speech. Half of the time they were faking their anger. The other times, impressively enough, only resulted in one punch thrown. Zuko apologized, practically begged for forgiveness, but Jet said it didn’t matter because it was Zuko’s knuckles that shattered anyway. That supposedly made it fair. Their relationship was pure catharsis and bad coping mechanisms. Jet chose Zuko because he hated Ozai. Zuko accepted Jet because Zuko hated himself.

That was a stretch, he didn’t hate himself.

He hated how he would look in the mirror and see his father staring back at him. His father with a death threat when Zuko would speak up. His father with his hand gripping Zuko’s shoulder too hard to keep him still. His father leaving a electric stove on during a fight that Zuko had been avoiding for months. 

Zuko cursed at the panic that caught him in a chokehold and made his hands shake. He gripped the sink tight in hopes to ground himself. _No one would hurt him here._ No one even knew he _was_ there anyway.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He was too young to be turning into his father.

_I mean, it’s just the eyes._

“God damnit, Sokka.” He mumbled under his breath and leaned closer into the mirror. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was trying to see.

There was a quiet knock at the door and a little voice asking for the bathroom. There were five other bathrooms. The kid could wait.

He was too young to be turning into his father.

He couldn’t be graying at eighteen. It was probably just the lights. Or the stress. The stress made his hands shake. No, the pain medication made his blood pressure spike which made his hands shake. _Stress,_ inconveniently, made him pass out.

His hands stopped shaking but the nerves still crawled along his fingers.

He had only fainted twice in the last four weeks but 'not at all' would have been the better number.

Zuko had taken the last painkiller the night before. Maybe that's why everything felt weird. He was just tweaking. His body had just gotten used to the pain not being there. So _that's_ what made him start to panic. He was in pain. The burn still hurt. It hurt more whenever he looked at it. 

That was one thing Ozai gave him at least. He was too young to be turning into his father, but the burn made it easier to tell the difference.

A harder knock at the door. Then another. The shuffle of feet back and forth. Another knock.

"It's Occupied!" Zuko shouted in response and turned the water on cool. He cupped his hands underneath the faucet and splashed it onto his face.

“I gotta pee!” Zuko couldn’t place the voice, but he was certain it was one of the younger kids. A child who didn’t even live on _his_ side of the house.

“That’s not my problem.”

“But I gotta-”

“THERE ARE FIVE OTHER FUCKING BATHROOMS!”

There was the faintest sniffle behind the door that turned into a full blown sob in five seconds flat. “Aang! Zuko swore at me!”

Zuko wasn’t in the mood for damage control. He wasn’t in the mood to be seen or spoken to. Much less have a sixteen year old attempt to keep the peace in a group home with fifteen boys in it. Fifteen boys and Zuko.

Maybe the Catskills was the better idea.

Another knock at the door, this one with an additional scratch coming from the base.

He flung the door open without a second thought, much harder than he needed to. “I know.”

Aang was unphased, but Momo wasn’t the biggest fan as his makeshift scratching post has been rudely pushed against the wall. The cat ran behind the younger teenager and hissed, his back curling like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to run away, throw up, or attack.

_Me fucking too, Momo._

“You shouldn’t yell at the kids, Zuko.” Aang scooped up Momo into accepting and experienced hands. The cat calmed instantly. He shifted his voice into a higher register with an accent Zuko was sure didn’t actually exist. “But Momo says ‘ _They should know to leave you alone by now.’_ ”

“I doubt Momo said that.” Zuko cringed as he shoved past Aang, disappointed in himself for playing along.

Aang followed him down the hall, he dropped his voice back to normal. “We finished fixing up Appa the Second tonight. And Hakoda, Sokka and Katara’s dad, invited us for dinner.”

“Oh? That’s good.” Aang stopped in the middle of the hallway, Zuko only gave a half assed glance over his shoulder. He wasn’t in the mood to be polite or civil, but Aang seemed determined to at least have whatever talk he was trying to muster. “What?”

“ _Us_ , Zuko.” He said it like it was supposed to mean something. “Because we leave tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“At four am.”

“What are you trying to say, Aang?” Zuko continued his stride down the hall until he made it to their bedroom. Aang only frowned at him. Momo shifted in his grasp as if he wanted to frown at Zuko too. “You said it yourself, we leave in a few hours. I have shit I need to-”

“Your father called.” Zuko felt the blood run from his face. He could see that Aang was still talking but he couldn't hear it over how loud his heart beat was. His breathing picked up and his scar began to ache. Just the mention of his father knowing where he was took him back to that night. Ponytail wrapped in his father's fist and a hand on his back as he used all his strength to push Zuko down onto the hot surface. 

He felt like days had passed before his eyes landed on Aang's again. Realistically it was no more than five seconds, because the kid was still talking.

Zuko reached for the door knob with the last bit of sanity he could muster and cut off Aang's tangent with a steady voice that surprised even himself. "Was it Lu?"

"What-"

"His secretary," He forced another breath, speaking slowly to stop a stutter that would have slipped if he hadn't. He wasn't a child. His father shouldn't scare him. "Her name is Lu. Or was it _actually_ him? And if it was him, does he know where I am?"

Aang’s expression was almost unreadable. Like some anger underneath his skin had begun to puncture the surface, but it faded just as fast. Replaced by his usual knit eyebrows and sympathetic frown of concern. Ever the peacekeeper. “His secretary.” He began, and Zuko let out a breath he didn’t realize had filled his lungs only to plant roots there. “She had been calling a lot of homes around here to see which one you were at. I think they narrowed it down to here and Xī Home in Utica.”

“How do you know that?”

“Gyatso figured I was the only one who you’d actually talk to about it,” Momo wiggled in Aang’s grasp and he opened his arms, letting the cat climb up to settle on his shoulder. “He kinda tells me everything about your… uh… _case._ ”

Zuko hated that word and he could tell Aang knew that. The kid screwed his eyes tight when he said it as if closing his eyes would show Zuko that he hated using it too. Case sounded so trivial. So mechanic. It made it sound like a casual dispute instead of multiple counts of-

Zuko stopped himself with a sigh as he pulled the door open and motioned for Aang to go inside first. Aang nodded in thanks and Momo chittered in gratitude, scaling to Aang’s other shoulder. “Keep me updated because they don’t tell me anything.” Zuko leaned into the doorframe after Aang had entered. The room never really felt like his own, because it wasn’t. The walls were decorated with various posters with sayings and prayers he had heard the monk’s say on the daily. Zuko wasn’t entirely sure if the decoration choice was Aang’s own or not, as he hadn’t bothered to check any of the other rooms. There were a few personal touches around though. A small cat tower in the corner near a large window that was covered with an even larger tapestry. The first night he was there he made a futile attempt at pulling the window open only to find it bolted. He asked about, not really expecting the answer Aang provided him.

_I tried running away when I was twelve. It was just… a lot to put on a kid. I came back a week after and they gave me my own room and Appa. So, it wasn’t all bad._

Zuko didn’t have the heart to ask what _it_ was. Aang probably felt the same coil in his stomach twist at the word case as Zuko did. No need to exacerbate it. No need to push a kid to his second breaking point.

Appa perked up from his spot lazily curled up on Aang’s unmade bed. He was an oversized old english sheepdog with a coat that would shed at the smallest movement. He stretched for a moment and lumbered off the bed before trotting his way over to Zuko and nuzzling at his hip.

Zuko’s arms were crossed over his chest as he looked down at the animal, suddenly wanting attention from him. Aang watched Appa carefully as the dog licked at Zuko’s one pair of sweatpants that he actually managed to pack himself, before circling and laying down right by Zuko’s feet.

He could feel Aang’s gaze switch to Zuko. Before the younger teenager had the chance to speak up, Zuko intervened. “He’s your service dog, not mine. Make him stop.”

Aang whistled a specific pattern that got Appa to stand at attention. “Good boy, Appa. Don’t worry. We’re fine.” He looked back up to meet Zuko’s eyes. Zuko could feel his weight slumping into the door frame so he pushed himself up, only to regret it almost instantly. He stuck his hand out onto the wall beside him to keep his balance. “We’re fine, right Zuko?”

“Do you know where my father went?” Zuko pressed, surprised his voice had managed to stay level. “They had plans on drilling off the coast of Venezuela in the winter. I don’t think he’d be where the grunt work is but… just in case.”

“We’re not headed that way.” Aang insisted. “But, your dad’s secretary mentioned a vacation home.”

“In New York?”

“Japan.”

“Osaka?”

Aang shrugged. “Dunno. Is there more than one?”

“Not under his name,” Zuko shook his head. “The one in Osaka technically belonged to my moth-” Zuko pulled his hand off the wall and steadied himself, clutching his wrist. Only to remember there was nothing there.

He must have stayed quiet for a moment too long because Aang took a step closer. “Are you okay? Do you need to lay down or-”

“Don’t patronize me...” Zuko bit back, less venom than he had anticipated. It almost sounded like a genuine request. A plea. He wouldn’t admit that out loud. “What time is it?”

Aang pursed his lips in suspicion. “About eleven. Why?”

“I just…” Zuko dropped his hand back down to his side once his mind had finally rid itself of the panic that had crawled up his chest, into his throat, and made a home in his brain. “I just haven’t packed yet.”

“Oh,” The tension in Aang’s shoulder’s melted away and Momo attempted a descent down Aang’s chest. At the cat's first slip and hiss, Aang flipped around and held him from his torso. “Well, I can help you if you’d like. It shouldn’t take that long if we work together.”

“A lot of my things ended up at my boyfriend’s house.” Aang was quiet for a moment, too quiet. Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose and walked past him towards the bunk bed. Maybe he would be better off with Appa next to him to avoid whatever Aang would have done.

“You and Jet are still together?” Aang prompted as he turned around to meet Zuko again. Appa yawned and crawled onto Zuko’s lap. He knew it wasn’t in defense, not from Aang. Probably because he had sat in a spot the fluffy monster already planned on taking. Nonetheless he ran a hand over Appa’s shaggy fur.

“Technically.”

 _“Techni-”_ Aang stopped himself at Momo’s meow of distress. He looked down at the cat, and back up at Zuko. The fake voice the sixteen year old had established as Momo’s returned in a hushed but very stressed whisper. _“Jet’s a piece of shit who doesn’t deserve you.”_ He gasped dramatically and held out Momo. His tail dangled in the air and he looked at Aang with wide green eyes. Aang switched his voice back in mock shock at Momo’s words. “Momo! That wasn’t very nice. I mean sure, Jet isn’t the greatest guy but-” 

Momo _-Aang-_ interrupted as he turned the cat’s body around to face Zuko once more. _“Remember when you had to steal Gyatso’s car to pick up Zuko after his boyfriend almost killed him?”_ He switched back with a thoughtful look on his face. “Hm, I don’t think I do. What were the details again, oh Great Momo?”

 _“Aang-”_ Zuko started, but that annoying voice cut him off again.

 _“We don’t know the details, silly. Because Zuko won’t talk about his feelings. But you stayed in urgent care with him for five_ **_fucking_ ** _hours!”_ Aang still held Momo out, but the fake voice melted back into his own. The anger already sounded misplaced coming from _… Momo…_ but it was even more jarring when it was Aang’s own voice. “Because I’m your friend and that’s what friends do. Friends don’t let their friend’s boyfriends break their-”

“If Gyatso heard you swear-” Zuko began but was interrupted by Momo, the real Momo, with a wiggle and loud meow. Appa barely lifted his head from Zuko’s lap to see what was happening.

“It wasn’t me…” Aang defended, mock sincerity in his voice. “It was Momo. See?” Momo jumped down from Aang’s grasp and made his way to the cat tower, climbing it with expert speed to settle at the top. “But he _does_ make an interesting point.”

“My stuff is with him.” Zuko said, no more fight in his voice. Maybe something in him wanted to see Jet. He hadn’t seen him since the incident. He didn’t see the burn. Didn’t see the hair. They talked of course. No more than a good morning text and a response one week later. But that was about as good as they had always been.

“So?” Aang asked. “Your stuff is at your father’s house _too.”_

 _Good point..._ “Yeah.”

Realization hit Aang like a truck. It was a near reflection of his own expression when Aang had first mentioned his father. _“No.”_

“I spent the last eighteen years sneaking in and out of that house,” Zuko forced himself up, much to the dismay of Appa who yawned in protest. “I’m sure one night won’t make a difference.”

“Zuko your father is-” Aang presses forward, his hands balled into loose fists, but stops abruptly. He looked over at Momo who had busied himself with a string that had detached itself from the tower. Swatting at it with a marksmen’s precision. 

_“What?”_ Zuko tested. “Momo doesn’t have anything to say this time?”

“He looks busy.”

“Right.”

Aang looked back and forth between Zuko and Momo, as if seeing the two in succession would make whatever choice he was mulling over easier. “...I’m coming with you.” He finally said. Zuko opened his mouth with the intent to interject. To insist that he could handle it on his own, but Aang plowed on. “I said I’d help you pack. I can drive. Plus we need to drop the van off at the place so it can ship to California.” He stopped himself and a huge smile bloomed across his face as he gasped in excitement. “We can even have a sleepover with Katara and So-”

“No.”

“They live closer to the airport.”

“No.”

“It just makes the most sense!”

“No!” Zuko raised his voice only to be matched with a hard knock against their shared wall and a request to keep it down. He dropped his voice back to a normal register, hoping his intent and pure aversion to that idea carried. “I’m not bringing you with me to Jet’s and my father’s houses and I’m not having a sleepover with people I barely know!”

_-_

Zuko hated Aang’s taste in music. It would switch so jarringly from some stomp and holler amalgamation to what Zuko could only describe as guided meditation with tingling flutes and bassy drums. It just felt weird. It felt weird with Aang in the driver’s seat as well, even with the exterior of the van practically screaming Aang’s name.

The interior was something else entirely though.

He had seen it before. Only once and in the dark. But, his focus had been caught by big blue eyes and what looked to be the beginnings of a concussion right above them. The flooring was a rich and dark hardwood that curved up the lower parts of the walls only to continue along the ceiling. All thin panels and slight variations in tones. There was a small kitchenette pushed up against the right side of the van that featured a small oven, an even smaller fridge, a sink, and rustic stained blue slatted doors. They turned a corner too fast and one had flown open, revealing empty shelves made out of the same reclaimed wood the flooring consisted of inside.

The walls along the side were painted a cool gray, most of it had been covered by decorative curtains and a cork board that only had three pictures attached. The bed was lofted on a set of open faced cabinets of various sizes. A speaker fit perfectly into one while a small fan fit perfectly into another. The rest remained empty, eagerly awaiting what four teenagers could possibly use the space for. A small blue knit rug sat at the base of the bed, flushed against the storage. The bed was covered in several blankets of different textures and thicknesses paired with one long body pillow. It was the only item that didn’t fit the cohesive color scheme they seemed to be going for. Compared to the cool blues, grays, whites, and browns, the body pillow was warm. A jutting bright red that made itself noticed with it’s sequined cover just waiting to have a hand run across it to see if there was another pattern to show. The back windows were covered with a sheer curtain but the blackouts that would inevitably go underneath for privacy’s sake were pinned over the bed. Resulting in a billowy canopy with small glowing spots of the lights Sokka had installed above head. He only knew it was Sokka’s work due to the other’s babbling after the initial pain had worn off. Or, at least he said it had.

_It’s just the eyes._

Zuko pulled his eyes back down from the rearview mirror to look at the view up ahead. Aang slowed down as they passed a decorative sign signalling their welcome into the village of Potsdam, New York. Despite the late hour the heat and freedom the summer allowed left a few people wandering the streets and lights still on in most of the buildings. Mostly various college students stumbling into or out of the bars the lower leveled buildings provided. Above held their apartments or smaller offices, their lives exposed to the world with their lack of efficient curtains. Some had flora and fauna overtaking their apartments, other’s Zuko could spot a wall of records in a bookcase across the room, but Jet’s was always the most eye-catching for better or for worse.

His second level apartment shared with two others, a couple whose actual names Zuko never caught. Jet’s poor excuse for an introduction was a waved greeting to _Smellerbee_ and _Longshot_ as he pulled Zuko into his room and locked the door. Through the window and past the fire escape he could see Jet’s decorative (Jet insisted he knew how to use them but Zuko was sure he didn’t) hook and swords with a spray painted _**“Don’t Accept Ozai’s Blood Money”** _ and a poster of his father with the eyes scratched out underneath. As if it wasn’t Zuko who bought the paint with his father’s _blood money_. He had put it there at the beginning of Ozai’s campaign and six months later insisted he had no reason to remove it.

Aang pulled up right before a parallel parking spot and turned his music down but didn’t bother unlocking the doors. Zuko tore his gaze from the window to look over at the younger teenager. His lips were pressed in a firm line, like he was holding back something he wanted to say. Zuko turned back and went to pull on the lock manually, not wanting to hear whatever high and mighty bullshit Aang was bound to say. “Zuko?” He started anyway, leaning forward in his seat, his arm draped over the driving wheel.

“What?” He didn’t wait for Aang’s response to unlock the door and climb out.

“Should I just… wait here?” The question didn’t sound like what he originally intended to say, but Zuko was thankful he didn’t.

“Just drive around the block or something,” He offered, pulling a hair tie from his wrist to pull his hair up hastily. Too short strands still clung to the back of his neck with sweat that Zuko hoped was just due to the heat of the summer and not nerves at seeing Jet. “If you play your music loud enough I’ll know when you’d be back.”

“You don’t want me to stay?” Aang pressed. “I don’t know… if anything like… _happens?”_

Zuko sighed, dropping his head down as the stray hairs at the front fell onto his forehead. “Aang?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to my _boyfriend’s_ apartment.”

“I know but-”

“I’m not going to explain why I think you shouldn’t wait outside for me while I’m at Jet’s apartment. In Jet’s bedroom. _Alone._ ”

 _“Oh...”_ Aang’s eyes went wide. He turned back to the road, the traffic light a few feet ahead of them flashed red. “Thirty minutes?”

“It’s Jet, Aang. _Try ten.”_ He closed the door behind him and watched until Aang drove to the corner and turned. More likely than not to swing by the 24 hour pastry shop close by. The few minutes that Aang had spoken over the music was dedicated to his craving for an egg custard tart before leaving the east coast.

Zuko walked up to the door and keyed in Jet’s code by memory and was buzzed in automatically. He took the steps up to the apartment two at a time, mostly to hurry the experience up. But, a part of him believed it to be the nervous energy of Jet seeing him for the first time like _this._ He almost wanted Jet’s reaction to be put off. Visceral and disgusted even. Then it’d be a reason to finally break up because apparently basing an entire relationship on mutual hatred of a figure of power wasn’t healthy. Especially when that figure of power was his father.

Especially when he had to actively avert his eyes from his own father’s scratched out gaze whenever Jet and Zuko needed to release some steam.

Maybe _boyfriend_ was too generous of a title. Neither of them had settled on it after all. But, it made those who learned of their relationship worry less. Even five hours in urgent care softened the blow when the phrase _“My boyfriend and I”_ came before it.

It wasn’t healthy. But Zuko didn’t deserve _healthy_. He didn’t know what it would even feel like.

He knocked on the door a few times, the gold detailing of their address swinging with their weak attachments. Jet had been expecting him, so the door flew open before the fourth knock.

Jet saw him and his expression didn’t change. Zuko wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or so much worse.

“You cut your hair.” Jet started, though he could feel his eyes lingering on the angry red scar. Zuko almost wanted to challenge him. Step into his space and fight back with _Is that all? C’mon, Jet. Look at me. Look at me and laugh because you were right about my father. As if I needed you to tell me._

“I did.” He said instead. “Is that a problem?”

“Shouldn’t be.” Jet tilted his head, motioning for Zuko to follow him inside. The decoration was simple, all they had were the bare necessities. It was surprisingly silent, with its lack of vibrant bubbling energy that the apartment always holds with its numerous guests. Yet, not even a small greeting from Smellerbee and Longshot occurred. It was just the two of them.

It was never _just_ the two of them.

They made it to Jet’s room. He may have been pushing twenty but his room remained a mess like some teenage boy was living out his ninja turtle fantasies. Then again, someone could take one long look at Jet and figure he was doing just that anyway. He pushed the door closed with Zuko’s body, shoving him against the hollow wood and pressed forward with a bruising kiss.

Zuko’s breath caught in his throat automatically, but he couldn’t convince himself to kiss back with much fervor. Jet reached around his waist and pulled their bodies flush against each other. Zuko managed to snake his arms out of the other’s grasp and press them against his chest just hard enough to break the kiss.

“I just came to pick up some of my things.” He panted, breath mingling with Jet’s own. 

Jet looked back at him in silence for a moment. Beady eyes scanning every minor detail. More likely than not finding the details in the burn. Zuko had done the same the moment he could see himself without the bandage. “Why?” He finally asked. “Are we breaking up?”

Zuko wanted to say yes, but then again having someone who almost seemed to want him, at least in that moment, seemed nice. “I never said that…” _He never said that but he wanted to._ “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

“Do you want to?”

“Is it anywhere else?” Jet’s eyes were practically going right through Zuko, and yet he still settled on the fucking scar. He missed the mere minutes ago when his hair was the main comment. 

“No,” Zuko managed to slip fully out of Jet’s grasp and walked to the other side of the room. Careful not to step on the random items scattered about the floor as he was almost certain a good quarter of them were his own. “Nothing as bad.”

“Well, I’m glad he didn’t get to those pretty lips of yours.” He glanced back to see Jet leaning against the door, his foot pressed up against it and his arms behind his back. He still wasn’t really looking at him. “You didn’t fight back…” It wasn’t a question.

“He’s my father.” Zuko shrugged, hoping that it would be answer enough despite knowing better. 

“That’s not good enough, Zuko.”

“It was my mistake thinking he’d actually listen to me,” Zuko defended before turning back around and moving things over on Jet’s excuse for a desk. Papers and unidentifiable wires connecting to nothing in particular. Right by his laptop was an open lock picking set. Zuko catalogued that in the back of his mind. “I used to wear this gold chain around my wrist. It was my mom’s, but I haven’t seen it in awhile. Did I leave it here?”

Jet shrugged as he pushed himself off the door and took a few long strides to his bed. He dropped down to sit, legs wide and elbows supporting himself on his knees. “I haven’t seen it.”

“Have you looked?” Zuko prompted without looking back.

He could hear the smirk in Jet’s voice. “I kinda can’t stop looking.”

Zuko looked back over his shoulder to see Jet looking him up and down. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re looking at me.”

“I look at you a lot.”

 _“What?”_ Zuko turned around fully and sat back on the desk. It bowed with the additional weight. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Is my pain _doing it_ for you?”

“Respectfully?” Jet leaned back onto the bed, propping himself on his elbows and looking at Zuko with wicked eyes. “Yeah. Because you look like him.”

“Where’s my shit, Jet?”

“I don’t know if you left anything here.” Jet defended with a nonchalant shrug. “And if you did, maybe Smellerbee or Longshot claimed it. We kinda thought you were dead.”

“You were one of the first people I called.” Zuko forced down the small ache in his chest, hoping his voice didn’t come out too small.

“Yeah. That’s why I thought you had died.” He cocked his head to the side, scanning Zuko over once more. “You still look like _you._ It’s just like… in a sexy Freddy Kreuger way. Or Two-Face.”

“I don’t think that’s a compliment.”

“Deadpool?” Jet prompted, with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Zuko dropped his head and bit at his bottom lip. His heel had been lifted so long, his whole leg bounced with the weight it was supporting. “If you shut up about it, I’ll blow you.”

Jet was silent for a moment. A blissful, quiet, moment.

“Tempting.” He spoke up. “Will you let me pull your hair?”

Zuko could practically feel how his dad yanked his hair down so he’d be level with the burners. He could almost see the reflection of a scalpel under fluorescents as he attempted to cut that memory off of him. Maybe Uncle was right. If he had waited until the heavy pain medication was out of his system and the shock had worn off, he would have just buzzed everything off.

“No.” He said after a moment, realizing Jet’s eyes had begun to wander.

“ _I sense unease about my appearance, General Hux.”_ Jet said in a mock deep voice, laughing at his own reference before he could finish the line.

“Jet-”

“The Phantom of the Opera, Joker, Darth Vader.” Jet teased. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Dr. Poison. You know, the one whose face melted in Wonder Wo-”

Zuko dropped to his knees between Jet’s legs, resulting in him shutting up almost instantly. Zuko took a deep breath to steady himself, and pulled his hair out of the quickly done ponytail. He tucked the loose hair behind his ears as he spoke again. “Promise me you won’t pull hard?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Jet said lowly, already reaching out.

“No, Jet. _You do.”_ Zuko instinctively flinched away. _“Only from the root._ And don’t touch my face. Any pressure is still… a lot.”

“Did your dad-” Jet began, but Zuko cut him off instantly.

“Don’t bring my father into this, okay?” He bit back. “It’s your escapist bullshit, I know how this works.”

“If you don’t want to do this-”

“I want to.” He lied, reaching forward to undo Jet’s fly. “But _you_ like it when I don’t. Right? You like the power it gives you?”

Jet nodded and reached for Zuko’s hair, giving an experimental tug from the root, just like Zuko had said. He snapped his head back with the force and hoped the full body shiver that ran through him didn’t make his uncomfort obvious. He felt like this was supposed to be something he wanted.

“Do you like that?”

 _“...Yes?”_ Jet’s expression darkened as he pulled his hand away.

“It’s not as fun for me when you look like that.” Zuko scoffed and sat back on his heels. 

“Like what?” He prompted, an angry heat pooling inside of him. Jet reached a hand up to cover his left eye. _“Fuck off.”_

“You look like a victim.”

“I deserved it.”

“That’s not what I said,” Jet leaned forward into his Zuko’s space, but neither backed down. “You should have fought back.”

“He would have killed me.” The answer was obvious. Zuko knew it. Jet knew it. Yet that only made Jet’s expression grow darker. More sinister.

“You should have killed _him.”_ The words should have sounded surprising. They should have sounded like some joke but Jet reached out for another touch. As soon as Zuko felt calloused hands reach up to the left side of his jaw he pulled back, forcing himself to stand up just a little too fast.

“He’s my-” Zuko began a defense only to have Jet shoot up in an interruption. 

“Father. I know that. _Fuck!”_ He shouted his interjection so hard his voice broke. There was a moment of silence. Jet’s chest heaved with breaths and Zuko just watched, surprised that his own nerves hadn’t come back with a vengeance. “I’m just _saying_ that there has been a tragic decline in the assassination of politicians for awhile. _Shake it up.”_

Zuko felt himself back up into the desk. He hadn’t even realized he was retreating. Jet scoffed in Zuko’s general direction and began pacing around the room. His eyes were glued to the ground and every few seconds he’d pick up an item of clothing, ball it up, and toss it onto the bed. Zuko only recognized a few of the pieces actually belonging to him. He pushed the thought of the possibility of other men in Jet’s bed aside.

“I feel like I’d be good in prison. You know, if I did _shake it up_ ,” Zuko chose to say instead, suddenly very aware of the lock picking set mere centimeters from his hand on the desk. “I can hold my own.” Jet threw his head back with a sharp _HA._ He ran a hand up his face and into his messy hair.

“Only because nobody’d fuck you or _with you_ with that thing on your face, Kylo Ren.” Jet said it like a joke. Like everything was a fucking joke. Zuko didn’t feel like playing along anymore. His hand settled on the lock picking set, slowly taking out what felt to be one with ridges and a curved top in a gripped hand.

“You seemed pretty eager to.” He said, voice like steel. Jet seemed to notice the change as he looked over towards him with a quirked eyebrow. In three long strides he was back in Zuko’s space. He leaned forward, bracketing Zuko off in between his hands on the desk.

“You said it yourself, Zuko. I like you like this.” Zuko decided he never wanted to hear his name out of Jet’s mouth again. He pulled in close and pressed a chaste kiss to Zuko’s lips, then to his cheek where the scar began, nearing Zuko’s blind spot. He didn’t push Jet away this time even as the kisses trailed to his left ear. The only thing he felt was a dull pressure instead of a love bite. If one could even call it that. “Let me guess, _fight in the kitchen?_ Dad grabs you by the hair, turns you around and you go face first into the burner?”

His breath was mingling with Jet’s as he gripped the pick tighter on impulse. “In so few wo-” He didn’t get to finish before Jet surged forward, grabbing a handful of Zuko’s hair and pulling him back. Instinctively Zuko brought the pick up and pressed it hard against the pulse point right below Jet’s jaw.

Zuko’s hand was perfectly steady.

Jet was smiling down at him.

Zuko’s heart was racing but it was the calmest he had felt in weeks.

Jet pulled a little, Zuko pressed harder but drew no blood. His wicked smile grew. “You could have defended yourself.”

“Hindsight.” Zuko commented, pulling the blunt makeshift weapon away from Jet’s throat the same moment his hair was released. “Don’t touch me ever again.”

“See?” Jet retracted, holding up his hands in surrender. His eyes followed Zuko as he went to the bed, fanning through all the items of clothing. Some of the shirts were his, most of them too heavy for where he was going. Zuko settled on grabbing a few t-shirts and three pairs of shorts. Barely useful, but something. “It’s not that hard.”

“I mean it, Jet.” Zuko grabbed a small drawstring bag that had been abandoned near the head of Jet’s bed and stuffed the few items he had collected into it. The visit wasn’t quite worth it. He looked back at the set of lock picks, now no longer in their neat container. Zuko sticks his hand out and waits.

It takes Jet longer than it should have. So long that the meditative sounds from a choir blasting from a van from the 60s signaled Aang’s return. “What?”

“I’m taking those.”

“Why?”

“Consider it a parting gift,” Zuko stepped forward, bag on his shoulder and reached around Jet. Collecting the set, the case, and the one he had pressed to his partner’s throat a minute earlier.

“Where are you going?” The question almost had genuine concern in it. Zuko only shrugged. 

_“Anywhere.”_

“You’re running away?”

“Maybe… I don’t know. Just… just can’t be _here._ ” Zuko peaked through the window to see Aang standing outside, gazing up. The young teenager reached above his head with a thumbs up, a puzzled look on his face.

Zuko returned the gesture and the concern seemed to melt. He made another gesture pointing at his wrist. “I’ve gotta head out.”

“What?” Jet prompted. “You got other places to visit on your goodbye tour?”

“I wasn’t visiting you to say goodbye. I was visiting you because I need my things.”

“You and I both know that isn’t entirely-” Jet reached forward, his hand inches away from landing on Zuko’s shoulder before he interrupted.

“I’m breaking up with you.” The comment took them both by surprise. “I shouldn't have to prove myself to you just to get some form of affection.”

“Oh really?” Jet prompted. “Maybe tell that to your father next time.”

Zuko left through the fire escape, a climb that he had done fifteen times before. It came easily, but the finality of the descent felt nice. Jet’s words were still burned into his mind, but Aang’s distraction ala a honey glazed donut worked wonders.

The drive to his house was short, halfway from Potsdam and the airport. Surprisingly near where they intended to drop off the van. Aang helpfully added that it was only ten minutes out from Katara and Sokka’s house.

It very much did not feel helpful.

Aang pulled onto the road’s shoulder right before they pulled onto the estate. His knuckles were white on the stick shift and he didn’t look over to get Zuko’s attention. He must have known he already had it with the dead silence of the drive.

“I’m not taking you to your father’s house, Zuko.” Aang’s voice was steady, but sounded like it held the weight of the world.

Zuko didn’t bother looking over either. “I can walk.”

“I’ll lock the door.”

“The locks barely work.” Aang reached out and pulled the key from the ignition, but didn’t say anything else. Zuko took that as a sign to keep going. “That doesn’t solve the lock thing.”

“I know what it’s like to lose everything you’ve ever known,” Aang finally looked over, the shadows aged him more than they should have. “Going back is only going to make everything feel worse.”

“It’s different.” Zuko insisted with a nod. He couldn’t look at Aang anymore.

“How?” Aang pressed like he always did. The kid wanted to help so badly that it made Zuko’s chest ache. He didn’t want to be helped. He couldn’t be helped.

 _“Because it can’t get any worse…”_ His voice broke into a whisper, the last word barely creeping out.

The sign leading up to the Hiranuma estate was scorched but the trail was neatly kept. Zuko was sure the rest of the house had gone through a deep cleaning already. If something was out of place, anything, it would have been taken already.

The chairs in the kitchen would be returned upright. The glass shattered around the oven’s door would have been swept away. A crack in the oak table, a family portrait, one of Azula’s hairpieces that got crushed in the crossfire, a tea kettle, a golden chain ripped into two. Glued back in place, thrown away, or replaced. Zuko imagined it probably reeked of the bleach they would have had to use to scrub the floors mixed with a clingy acidic smoke. Zuko had left his room a mess in his rush, but he was almost certain that would have been wiped away too. 

So much for his mother’s necklace. He had plenty of her anyway.

_I mean, it’s just the eyes._

Zuko leaned back as much as the chair would let him and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. He takes a shaky breath. Then another. He’s not crying about it anymore. He hasn’t for a day straight. He hasn’t since he talked to Sokka.

It’s progress enough.

Those blue eyes had no right to be as kind and preemptively forgiving as they were. Zuko didn’t even know what his father could have possibly done to hurt him in a way to give him nightmares, but the thought still didn’t surprise him. His eyes drooped as he mumbled something else about the car. Something he was proud of having learnt that day while doing some last minute touches. He just sounded so effortlessly happy. All of them did. Zuko barely knew what Aang went through, yet the kid did everything to help others. Even so much as to stop Zuko from doing something that would have inevitably been self destructive.

He wanted to be effortlessly happy. He wanted it so badly that it hurt. He wanted to be loved by his family. He wanted his mom to still be in his life. He wanted to just be okay again.

Zuko dropped his hands from his eyes, the minor meltdown faded into a subtle ache. It had only been fifteen seconds.

Aang was still watching.

The donut was half eaten, balanced carefully on top of a napkin on the cup holders. The analog clock the three teenagers had installed into the dashboard read midnight.

“No reason to press it if it can’t get any worse, right?” Aang prompted, his expression gentle but almost unreadable. Positive, with an edge. “You’ll be okay?”

It was a question that didn’t need to be answered.

Couldn’t be answered if he tried.

So, Zuko didn’t try. “We have to drop the van off now or else it won’t make it to California for a few days.”

Aang nodded and turned back to the steering wheel, returning the key to it’s rightful place in the ignition. Appa the Second rumbled to life, but Aang didn’t press forward.

“We can keep talking if you’d-”

“About what?” Zuko returned his gaze to the dark road ahead of them and did his best not to think about the night he first left. “Our place in the universe?”

Aang smiled, something smaller than usual. “Don’t joke like that, because I really want to.”

“I just remembered you were raised by Buddhists,” Zuko prompted, letting his eyes droop closed. “You’re welcome to, I just don’t know if I’ll listen.”

Zuko was one of the lucky ones, but he sure as hell never felt like it.


	3. And we walked out of the castle, and we held our head up high

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Please accept me to your college. I am begging you…_
> 
> “Smiley face,” his voice croaked out after several hours of unuse. “P.S, If you don’t accept me you’ll hurt my feelings.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around. Also this chapter ended up being longer than the other too so that's fun
> 
> TW: Panic attack, but it's not by the one running the POV so it isn't detailed

_Often in life, we face difficult situations…_

_No that’s stupid._

_ There’s always those days when the moon looks… _

_Fuck, no. Not that either_

_ Please accept me to your college. I am begging you… _

“Smiley face,” his voice croaked out after several hours of unuse. “P.S, If you don’t accept me you’ll hurt my feelings.”

He stuck one finger out and pressed down on the backspace key until the page was blank. The blinking cursor mocked his inability to write a simple opening sentence.

_ Well, fuck you too word doc. I don’t even want to go to college. I can do shit with my life without a formal education. I’m smart as  
fuck, incredibly attractive and I’m about to be a world traveler. I’ll just send you a picture of my passport and you’ll jizz yourself  
_ _ at how sexy and worldly this motherfucker is. _

He didn’t mean to type all of that. One finger to the backspace button, pressing once for each individual character, gaining speed and ferocity on the poor keyboard as he made it to the first letter. A blinking cursor.

Sokka wanted to sleep. It wasn’t like it would be difficult. He already sat cross legged in his bed with basketball shorts, boxers, and nothing else. A spacer in the spot where a nostril piercing would usually sit on his right side. Too uncomfortable to sleep in the new jewelry but too fresh to go without for more than a few minutes. His laptop was a foot in front of him on his soft thickly knitted blanket. He had grabbed the oscillating fan from the basement and brought it up to his room. (Katara waited a minute too long so it was his that night). The lights were low, the brightness of his laptop was on night mode so his eyes wouldn’t strain. Even the gentle sound of waves from Katara’s white noise machine next door would have knocked him out on a usual night. Sokka loved to sleep!

So why couldn’t he?

He slammed his laptop shut and pressed the heels of his hands to his tired eyes so hard that colorful stars danced across his vision. Maybe he was just excited. They were supposed to leave on a life-changing field trip in no more than a few hours. He had packed his bags two nights ago, the rucksack had fallen on its side in the corner of his room and some things had spilled out, but it was packed. The van was in working order as far as he was concerned. His dad had lent him a basic mechanic tool box that should hopefully be enough for the length of the trip. Soka was ready! He would be _readier_ if he could just….

Sokka huffed and fell backwards onto his bed, his head very nearly missing his pillow and banging against the headboard. Maybe that’s what he needed. Another minor injury to the skull would knock him out just enough to last the few hours until the trip to the airport.

Maybe it was his room. The warm creamy tones weren’t exactly his own style, but the house had come with them and he couldn’t be convinced to repaint. That didn’t stop him from filling up every corner with as much personality as he could. He mounted a sword he had been gifted above his closet so it would reflect the light of the moon to cover the space with pale light for no more than two hours a night. His closet doors had a snowy landscape painted on them. A village in the middle of snow banks so large and an ocean so wide that they couldn’t be reached by outside life. The buildings were made of ice and the moon hung perpetually in the sky with two fish flanking it. One black with fins like daggers and one white with a flowing trail.

Yue had painted them like it was something she’d seen before. Her wrists flicked delicately yet precise as she hummed along to Sokka’s record player. Black and White by RKS crackled out, skipping beats and scratching with its surprising amount of overuse. Her white hair was falling onto her face and her overalls were speckled with acrylic. Sokka had laid on his back beneath her, watching her intense focus from above. She said it like it was to be a memory of her. Sokka insisted there was no need for a memory because she wouldn’t leave.

Their moon. Her smile. The way her traditional tattoos were embedded into her cool-to-the-touch skin in such a familiar way that she could have been born with them.

She kissed him like she meant it.

Sokka lost sleep over if she _too_ could feel the weight of every kiss and touch or if that was just the reverence she gave everything. Yue glided more than walked. Sung more than spoke. She lived longer than everyone said she would. 

Sokka jolted back up and grabbed his phone from his bedside table and immediately took a snap of the closet doors. He wouldn’t forget, but he would miss them. 

He made quick work of scanning the rest of his room. Pictures of Yue that used to adorn his poster board had diminished to two, the rest went to her family. It was where they should have been. There were a few scattered pictures with Suki from the few official dates they had gone on together. Roller skating (she kicked his ass) clubbing (he could almost keep up) fishing (that one was his idea). The faux shutter of his cellphone sounded off as he snapped the image. There was no reason to take all of them with him. There was too much risk in the possibility of their damage. And they meant something to him. They meant a lot. Suki was only a phone call away though.

Maybe Sokka was just too sentimental.

There was no maybe, he knew that he was. He knew it like he knew how to breathe. Everything could be a keepsake. Those little things had memories. His dates with Suki, how Yue looked while painting, him and Katara as children. All the little trinkets that triggered those thoughts were in his room. He couldn’t just _leave_ them without a proper goodbye.

It wouldn’t like they’d be gone forever. It was his house. It was his _room._ _They’ll be fine Sokka. You’ll be fine._

_ Like many people, I attribute materials to memories… _

_ Memories to materials? _

_ People to materials? _

_ Memories to... _

He sighed to himself. Already abandoning that train of thought before he could even make it back to his laptop to begin it. Another scan of the room only made something in him ache all the more. Sokka shook his head hard, forcing that creeping feeling in his chest away as his hair fell into his eyes. What he needed was a distraction. What he needed was-

“Food,” He decided, much louder than he anticipated. He pocketed his phone and went to walk out of his room only to pause in the doorway. A vans shoe box sat atop his dresser guarded steadfastly by a small stuffed polar bear that read _“Bronx Zoo”_ from his one and only visit there. Sokka looked through his door and down the stairs which forked into the kitchen and the entryway, only to go back to the box patrolled by the bear. It occurred to him that Bato, his father’s _special friend_ , was over. If the two of them weren’t asleep then at the very least they’d be distracted. “I have time.”

Sokka flipped the top open and blindly grabbed at the familiar cargo. His fingers grazed against smooth chilled glass. “Oh, sweetheart, it has been far too long,” He practically moaned as he pulled out the pipe adorned with swirling blues and blacks immediately followed by his already full grinder and… “Shit.”

_No lighter. Why was there no lighter?_

Sokka lifted the box up and shook it as if there was some secret compartment that would magically reveal his two dollar lighter with a shitty vinyl rap that read “disco inferno” overtop a Saturday Night Fever silhouette. It was beautiful and tacky and so close to running out of lighter fluid. His search was quickly abandoned as he heard a rustle behind the door of his father’s bedroom. Sokka set the box back in it’s rightful place, made sure Mr. Floof the polar bear was standing guard once more, and grabbed his headphones quickly before descending the steps. He made it halfway down before running back up, closing his door as softly as he could, and running back down again. He shushed each step as it creaked beneath his feet until he made it to the kitchen and popped his earbuds in. The first guitar strum of Black and White wrung out and Sokka didn't fight his hair trigger reaction of skipping it.

The kitchen was simple. Bigger than the one they had at Gran Gran’s house or even in their original family home in Nome. But, simple was good.

Simple meant he could turn on the electric stove with no sound.

Simple meant the pans hung along the wall beneath the cabinet.

Simple meant the fridge wasn’t even a full step from the oven as to not burn the whole house down while he contemplated what it was he wanted to eat. After a few moments of deliberation, only to be cut short at the sight of bacon tucked safely away in the drawer dedicated to various meats and cheeses, Sokka settled on a BLT. Delicious, greasy, fatty, and exactly what the doctor ordered.

Sokka could practically hear Katara countering that ideology, but she was still out cold in her own room with her whale songs and her swooshy waves and her undisrupted sleep cycle so it didn’t matter what she would have thought.

God, Sokka just wanted to sleep. He needed to get high and he needed to sleep.

He needed to get high, eat a huge BLT, mute out the fear of leaving what had become home, and go to sleep.

With the to-do list officially established in his mind, he tore open the oscar mayer maple bacon and tossed the slices onto the already hot skillet. He checked the expiration date as an afterthought and discovered that there was only two days left. With that lovely little additional knowledge he tossed five more slices into the pan. It would be the BLT to end all BLTs.

He had a little over a gram left because fruity edibles had become a very close friend after a birthday present from Bato in secret. It wasn’t like he needed to save it. A huge BLT and he could be absolutely zooted while eating it? What a night. The stars had aligned in his favor. It was almost worth giving up on his essay and staring at Yue’s mural for far too long.

_ So get this, my girlfriend said she’d turn into the moon when she died. I’m starting to sort of believe her. If you let me into your   
_ _ school I’ll tell you why because I don’t think i can explain it in 500 words or less._

Sokka packed the bowl a little too tightly and flipped the bacon a little sooner than he needed too. He forced the thought out of his mind and went on the search for a lighter or a match or _anything._ All he wanted was to be less sober than he was at that moment and have a huge ass BLT that was more B than L or even T. He hoped all the bacon would be worth it with how many grease splashes had reached his bare torso already.

There was a match book in the junk drawer right beneath the bread box. Again, the luxuries of a simple kitchen. With one hand Sokka pulled out the matches. The other flipped up the door of the bread box and grabbed two slices to pop them into the toaster. He went back to the packed bowl, placed delicately on the counter by the fork he had been using as a spatula on a napkin. It took three tries to light the match and the flame almost consumed it on the third strike, singing his fingertips in the process. He brought his pipe to the flame and as soon as it started to glow with warmth he inhaled so deep his head spun.

"Sokka!" The sudden breach of silence spurred Sokka into a coughing fit that rattled his chest and made him gag. It was probably best that he wasn’t too aware of his own movements because if he already _felt_ like a chicken with it’s head cut off as he fanned the smoke that kept coming up in bursts to disperse it sooner while ripping his right earphone off so it dangled from the side, silencing every other beat of Freddie Mercury's lofty tenor with the motion, he couldn't imagine what he _looked_ like.

His father’s steely stare turned into an exhausted eye roll. “Sokka…” He said again, as if he was trying to keep a deer from running into the street.

“Don’t-” Another cough burst from his throat and his head rushed, but it felt like the last of the fit. Sokka tried to speak up again. _“Don’t scare me like that, Dad.”_

Sokka silently prayed to every spirit, god, or saint that his dad felt like being cool about the smoke that night. Truthfully, Sokka knew there was nothing to worry about. At most his father would fuss at him for smoking _in the house._ As if the walls weren’t streaked with cigarette smoke from the last tenants. At best, he'd ask for a hit and tell him stories about his time as a soldier.

“Did you hear the doorbell?”

Sokka twisted his face in confusion and took the other earphone out, letting it hang over his shoulders. He hadn’t heard much of anything. He looked over his shoulder through the window above the oven. Sure enough, there were headlights pulling away and the light chatter of familiar voices.

_Were they familiar?_

“What time’sit? _”_ Sokka asked again, the spinning behind his skull hadn’t quite settled yet and if he focused on the analogue clock a moment too long he’d probably pass out.

_Once I-_

The chance opening statement stopped before it even began. Sokka may have ripped much harder than he meant too and he may need to take a minute to get his shit back together, but he was certain writing about a green out he had had with Suki would not be the best college essay.

Fuck, he couldn’t even remember the prompt.

It was a boring one. Something formative.

Sokka had a decent enough life, but a formative event was a box he’d prefer to leave under lock and key.

He saw his dad move out of the corner of his eye with a small dismissive laugh. Okay, so Dad would be cool about it. That was good. That was something.

Sokka looked back down at the faux marble design on the table, it took a moment longer than it should have to see his pipe in the similar pattern. Nothing spilled. Nothing accidentally caught fire. Bacon still sizzled pleasantly behind him.

_Bread box. Toaster. That’s what I was doing._

The toast was still dipped into the hot coils, but the bread box was open. With an open palm he slapped it closed, the thought of his dad already forgotten.

Damage control of getting caught was looking pretty solid. No angry dad. Nothing out of place. His lungs burnt like hell but that was his own fault. The smell was loud but he had a few hours before anyone else would notice it.

“Aang?” His dad’s voice and the concerned tone didn’t necessarily sober Sokka up, but it got his attention just enough to clear his head and peek out from the kitchen. “What are you-”

“Hi, Hakoda!” Aang’s voice was chipper as always, but there was an edge. That time, Sokka stepped out entirely into the entryway. His dad silhouetted the kid from his view. He took another step closer. “This is Zuko.” _That explained the edge._ “The Zuko you wanted to meet earlier today, remember? Well, we just couldn’t wait and decided to come now.”

“At two in the morning?” His dad asked.

“Didn’t want to make you wait, you know? We’re still okay to sleep here tonight, right?”

“Of course…” Dad’s voice dropped. “Are you alright?”

Zuko laughed, something spiteful and bitter. One sharp sound. Sokka remembered how the other laughs sounded just a day before. He’d rather it was one of those again. “We’ve been worse.”

Sober Sokka would have made his way back upstairs. Sober Sokka would have realized that the fact that Aang and Zuko were on his front porch two hours early wasn’t the best sign. Sober Sokka certainly wouldn’t have shouldered (more like stumbled) his way past his father in the door frame for the sole purpose of seeing Zuko and maybe getting a genuine pretty laugh out of him like the others he had heard before.

Sober Sokka wouldn’t have so easily admitted to the laugh being pretty either.

Mildly concussed Sokka would… _did._ It hit him that he only had one interaction with the son of his mother’s _technical killer_ once while of sound mind.  
 _Maybe that was for the best._ _  
_Pleasantly-high-but-definitely-higher-than-anticipated Sokka decided against the laugh plan. If it was even a plan at all.

The concern and anger sober _(mildly concussed)_ Sokka managed to keep in his chest last time spilled out without a moment of forethought. “What the fuck happend to you two?”

Zuko’s red rimmed eyes met Aang’s glassy ones. A silent conversation passed between the two that Sokka desperately wanted to listen in on.

“We got doughnuts.” They said simultaneously, before looking back towards Sokka and his father.

The admission didn’t feel honest, so Sokka asked again. “What else happened?”

It was just Zuko who answered. “I had to get a few things from my boyfriend’s house. It was easier coming here then going back to the group home.”

He almost debated Zuko’s claim when something unreadable passed through Aang’s eyes. The only thing that stopped him was what they had shown up on his front porch wearing. Both were very obviously in their pajamas. Aang’s fleece sweatpants were a light orange patterned with cream swirling clouds and his oversized sweatshirt dwarfed his frame. He had the beginnings of dark circles underneath his eyes and his hair stuck out every which way. Well, more every which way then lack of consistent styling aside from a bandana caused it to be.

But Zuko?

It was the first time Sokka had seen him in his own clothes in weeks. Or what he could assume to be his own clothes, rather. If anything, the site of Zuko in stretched out gray jerseys and sweatpants with paint stains should have been what caught him off guard. They did at the time of course, but it was pleasant because it was familiar. It was pleasant because it was Sokka’s comfort on someone who looked to need all the comfort he could get. Before there was a soft, almost inviting, air the teen gave off. In a t-shirt repping Sokka’s home, he laughed so hard his face turned red. In a pair of beat up sweatpants, he cradled Sokka’s head as stars danced in his vision. He talked. _They talked._

But the Zuko in front of him seemed as untouchable as the first time. Of course it was still loungewear, maroon joggers with black detailing along the sides and a v-neck, his attempts to tame his hair given up halfway through as bangs fell into his eyes and strays stuck from the side.

Sokka noted the disappointing lack of bright red shorts.

His arms were crossed, gaze locked in one place. Something familiar, something _uncomfortable,_ passed through them and those golden eyes darted down for no more than a split second before locking again.

Sokka couldn’t believe it took him that long to realize the target was his own eyes.

Sokka also just remembered he was shirtless.

_Right… forgot about that._

Another flick of Zuko’s eyes went down and back up. There was the slightest bounce to his movements.

_Holy shit._

Zuko was _looking,_ looking. 

The realization was short lived as his dad spoke up. Apparently he had been speaking the whole time based on the small nods from Aang.

“-can stay in Sokka’s room or on the couch if it’s comfortable.”

“Wait-” Sokka cut in. “Why my room?”

“Well, I don’t want them to share a room with your sister. That would be-” The power behind the sentence depleted as he looked at who it was actually talking about. A fairly scrawny kid with sunset pajamas, the guy who very openly talked about his boyfriend already, and Katara’s brother. The only one the beginning of the fatherly request seemed to bother even the slightest was Aang. And, it wasn’t like he’d do anything but claim a couch by an open window and sleep like the dead.

The look on his dad’s face was long suffering, but in the same instance it looked like he remembered he left Bato in his bedroom. 

“Nevermind,” Dad said with a wave and turned his attention to Sokka. “You’ve got this under control, right kid?”

Sokka mocked a salute. “Aye, Aye, Captain,” Dad marched back up the stairs with little fanfare, probably half asleep the entire time. Aang made a small noise, obviously about to say something, before Sokka cut him off. “Katara or couch?”

“What?”

“As a big brother, I’m saying couch,” Sokka leaned against the door frame as the two entered the house fully. He could still feel Zuko’s eyes on him and his skin felt warm just thinking about it. “But as a bro I’m saying she has a futon in her room and you have a sleeping bag. You’ve got two hours.”

Aang blushed a deep scarlet and readjusted the strap of his oversized backpack. “I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

“The four of us are about to move into a van with one bed,” Sokka said, forcing nonchalance in his tone as if that thought hadn’t made him think of how warm Zuko’s hand felt when it was on his face. “If anything it’s probably the farthest apart you’ll be from her for a while.”

He was overstepping his boundaries, sure. But at that moment all he wanted to do was be alone with Zuko. If only for a few seconds before the teenager decided on his own bed for the night.

If only to just have Zuko very obviously check him out just a few seconds more.

His own words ran through his head again. _The furthest apart you’ll be for a while._

Maybe Aang got the idea or maybe he was too tired to fight it. He spared a glance at Zuko, who still stood with his guard up, before ascending the stairs.

Zuko let out a breath as soon as Aang made it up the stairs.

“You okay?” Sokka wasn’t sure why he asked it. He didn’t entirely expect an honest answer.

Zuko nodded and glanced over towards the entrance to the kitchen. “I should ask you the same thing.”

Right. The air was still a little smokey, filled with the scent of bacon and pot. It’s not like his night was going anywhere else. “You wanna join?”

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Zuko said yes.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Zuko offered to cut up the vegetables and plate everything.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Zuko pulled himself up to sit on the counter behind him as Sokka continued to speak of his day and flipped the bacon over to finish cooling.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Zuko interrupted Sokka’s tangent about polar bears and essay topics with “I said boyfriend earlier, didn’t I?”

But he was.

“Yeah,” Sokka hummed as he flipped the last few pieces of bacon on the pan. He had taken four more hits so he was much more comfortably high then the minor anxiety rush of earlier. “Who is this mysterious guy anyway? Aang said he was kinda an asshole, which is saying something. Should I be jealous?”

He barely caught Zuko eyeing the pipe on the table as he glanced over his shoulder at him. 

“Oh yeah, Aang hates him. I didn’t know the kid could hate someone.” Zuko nodded in acknowledgement and turned his gaze to meet Sokka’s eyes again. “Nothing to be jealous about. I broke up with him.”

“Oh?” Sokka couldn’t help the obvious excitement creep into his tone. “I mean, oh that _sucks_ I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah…” He was quiet again for a minute, looking back down at the pipe. “I’ve never gotten high before.”

“You want to? Right now I mean.” Sokka took a few steps closer, pointing at the item of Zuko’s attention with his makeshift spatula. “There’s enough left and it’s not like I could bring it with me if I wanted, you know?”

“Does it help?” He sounded hopeful for something that Sokka couldn’t quite place.

“With what?”

“I don’t know. Anything?” Zuko shrugged. “You’re acting kinda different today.” He stopped himself quick, holding his hands up in defense as if that small comment would have warranted anger. “Which is stupid because I barely know you and I don’t know how you act most of the time so it’s not like I-”

“No I get you.” Sokka tossed the fork to the side and leaned onto his elbows on the table. It felt like too much, keeping eye contact in that moment. Instead, he let his neck relax, dropping his head so his hair fell in front of his eyes as he examined the detailing of the table. Trying to see a consistent pattern. _“Yeah, it helps._ I was just… bumming myself out over leaving.”

“Why?” Zuko prompted. “You’ll only be gone for the summer.”

“Yeah I know but it’s still weird. I used to live out west so-”

“Nome.” Zuko’s interjection got Sokka to look back up. “I don’t know why, but I never really considered Alaska out west. I mean, of course it is, I’m not an idiot.”

“Yeah, how did you know I’m from-”

“I’ve stolen about half a little league’s worth of youth larges from there.” A smile Sokka didn’t realize was containing broke free at the admission.

“So you knew they were mine.”

“Knew they weren’t Katara’s.”

They laugh, it’s soft and careful, but they laugh. Sokka’s is louder of course, he was always louder, but he finally got the laugh he wanted earlier out of Zuko. They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment before Sokka reached for the pipe and match book.

“I have a lighter.” Zuko leans over on his right side a little and their arms almost touch. Sokka shouldn’t have been so distracted by the near skin to skin contact because he almost missed the detailing of the brass zippo that Zuko held like it was nothing.

It had a classic Japanese style dragon etched into the surface with intricate kanji characters underneath.

“Just a lighter?”

Zuko seemed surprised at the question, he looked over the practical art work in his palm. “I think it’s Uncle’s… my father has one just like it.”

_How fucking ironic._

Sokka doesn’t say it out loud, knowing that the peace they had finally established would be thrown off it’s steady course. Instead, he tops off the bowl from his grinder and passes it off to Zuko who lights and with a simple flick. More fire shoots from the top then necessary.

Zuko’s eyes flicked up to meet his own and the flame danced in them. He took the beginnings of a breath, but apparently wasn’t satisfied as he went down to light the grounds again for another inhale. He passed the bowl back to Sokka’s waiting hand, his breath still held high in his chest. Sokka went ahead and took a hit too. Then, his chest deflated, the smallest curl of smoke escaped his lips but the rest came out from his nose. Smokey tendrils curled around his face and floated to the ceiling. Zuko wasn’t looking directly at him, instead he settled somewhere over Sokka’s shoulder. Maybe that was the excuse Sokka had made for himself to allow his own gaze to stay trained onto the way Zuko’s adams apple bobbed with his swallows and how natural he looked once his features settled into a relaxed place.

“Did that hurt?” It was all Sokka could manage as every other brain cell was too focused on how that had no right to be as hot as it was.

"What?" Zuko hummed as the rest of the smoke escaped from his lips from a quick blow out of circular lips. "Your food's burning by the way."

Sokka swore under his breath and turned around to save his bacon. Literally. They weren't horrible, a little char never hurt. Yet, the question of Zuko's skill still crawled around his brain. "That dragon thing you pulled? Did it hurt?"

“Dragon thing?” He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see a small smile play on Zuko’s lips. "It's smoother than cigarette smoke, harsher than cigars."

"Well, how do you feel?"

Zuko looked up to the ceiling in waiting. "Is it supposed to kick in that fast?"

"For some it does, yeah. Give it a couple minutes."

"I'll keep you posted then." Sokka plated the few burnt pieces, he could still feel Zuko’s eyes following him. "There was a little rush. That was nice."

“ _A little rush._ ” Sokka laughed. “You sure you’ve never smoked before?”

“Never smoked? No. Never smoked weed? Yeah. If I had to get the edge off, I was always more a drinks guy.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, my father would-” He stopped himself. “Ozai didn’t care if we drank or not. Didn’t care if I did. Didn’t care if I did much of anything really, but he would _let_ my sister drink. I just _did.”_

“Right, your sister,” Sokka thought it best to not bring up more details about that, it wasn’t his family after all. “It’s pretty clear out tonight. I was gonna go outside, sit under the stars. You know, cliche shit. You’re coming with me.”

Zuko’s smile widened and Sokka was almost certain the teen wasn’t aware of it. “I don’t get a choice?”

“You don’t seem like the type who's gotten the chance to stargaze before.” He closed the two sandwiches and handed one plate off to Zuko. Sokka managed to tuck the paraphernalia away into his pockets.

“You wouldn’t be wrong.”

“So, yeah, you don’t get to choose. Need help?”

“I can get off a table, Sokka.”

Of course he could, but the moment they made it to the hallway, one trailing the other, Zuko gripped his shoulder hard and stilled their process.

For a moment, Sokka’s worried something had happened. But, all the concern melted away when he turned to see Zuko, eyes wide and the smallest rise of the corners of his lips.

It kicked in.

“You good?”

Zuko’s mouth opened to form words a second faster than his brain could catch up. “I don’t know.”

“Well,” Sokka pressed. He loved this part. “How do you feel?”

“What am I supposed to feel?” Zuko’s grip tightened slightly on his shoulder and Sokka wanted to pull him closer.

“Getting high isn’t a pass fail, you know that right?” He laughed, admittedly at Zuko’s expense. “Are you Relaxed? Sleepy? Happy?”

“I’m never happy.” Sokka laughed again, harder that time. Of course the emo rich kid would say something like that. Zuko didn’t seem to get the joke, his face twisted in genuine confusion. Maybe the poor kid wasn’t kidding.

Suddenly Sokka remembered the scar as if it didn’t take up half of Zuko’s face.

“Tell me if you start feeling anxious then.” Sokka said once he had calmed down a little.

“I’m always anxious.” Zuko hummed, mostly to himself, and pulled his hand back. Sokka craved the warmth left instantly.

“What a life to live.” He flipped open his sandwich and pulled off a slice that was about to fall off anyway. Zuko deserved it. Sokka wouldn’t usually just go handing his precious food off to anybody. “Bacon?”

Zuko nodded and accepted it with a toss to his own plate.

They made it to the backyard and settled themselves down in relative comfortable silence. He’d let Zuko enjoy the first moments of seeing grass and the sky in silence. Plus there was something ethereal about the way Zuko looked. Untouchable but soft, untethered but grounded.

He glanced up at the moon, it was full that night.

_Yue, I think Ozai’s son reminds me of you. You’re quick to forgive, so I don’t think you’ll be angry. Not at him at least. Disappointed in me, maybe._

If Sokka let himself think about that for too long he would start to spiral. So, new gameplan.

Eat BLT and try not to think too hard about how Zuko just fished into his pocket to get the pipe and his zippo lighter back. Also try not to think too hard about his lips. Or how when his expression relaxes while he’s shrouded in smoke he could be a painting in some fancy museum. Or the fact that his hair is so so soft and Sokka didn’t even realize he was brushing it out of Zuko’s eyes but holy fuck he’s letting him do it.

_You know what, just focus on the fucking sandwhich._

Conversation flowed easily. Simple topics like the road trip ahead of them and their mutual friends were the focus. Once the sandwiches were done and plates were stacked on top of each other, Zuko found his head in Sokka’s lap. And Sokka found his hand carding through Zuko’s hair.

He just made it so horrifically easy.

“The stars are pretty bright up here.” Zuko said, the last of the smoke flowing out of his mouth into the air.

“You’ve never seen them like they deserve to be seen,” Sokka insisted. "Back home you could see thousands of 'em. On fishing trips with my dad when i was younger, I'd just spend the whole time looking at the reflections of them in the water."

"Sounds beautiful."

"Remind me when we're out there. We find a place that is so far from the rest of the world that you can't even remember what city lights would look like on the horizon. We'll do some real star gazing."

"What's this then?" Zuko asked, craning his neck to look at Soka face to face. His eyes were red and his pupils were blown. His lips were slightly parted and dry.

"A trial run." Sokka said easily. "Seeing if you have what it takes."

"For what?" Zuko scoffed and looked back into the endless sky. "Looking at a couple of shiny dots?"

"More like respecting them," Sokka didn't mean to get genuinely offended, but the comment made him bristle. Zuko flinched, Sokka wouldn't haven't noticed it if their space wasn't shared. He regretted it immediately. "Sorry… I just-"

"No, you're fine. I-" He sighed with an arch of his back, repositioning himself so he was turned away from Sokka and towards the rest of the backyard. Without a second thought, Sokka went back to the nape of Zuko's head and thumbed through the shorter hair there. Zuko seemed to relax with the touch but didn't make any show of turning back. He was still all but sprawled across Sokka's lap, but without seeing his face he felt he had failed him. "What do you like about the stars?"

Okay, so not entirely ruined. Sokka would have to remember to tread lightly around...all of him.

"There's millennia of history tied to them," He decided. "And culture. Religion and science. I can't believe you've known Aang for this long and you haven't sat through one of his rants about the universe "

"I've sat through them, I just tune them out." Zuko sighed. "Sorry. I guess I forgot."

Sokka couldn't find the courage in him to ask what it could have been that Zuko forgot. He couldn't convince himself to ask Zuko to stop apologizing either. "I didn't really believe in all that stuff before-" _Before Yue_ his mind supplies him. "But… it's kinda comforting."

“You have an affinity towards celestial bodies.” Zuko hummed, his tongue sweeping his bottom lips to wet them as he finally shifted one more time so his gaze was fixed on the sky. “The moon, the stars…”

"Just space in general." Sokka steeled himself. "Space is pretty cool.”

“Do you wanna go into astrology?”

Sokka's fingers froze at the apex of Zuko's scalp. “You mean astronomy?”

“Fuck…" A blush blossomed on Zuko’s cheeks. Sokka laughed and Zuko joined him. The kind of deep belly laugh that Sokka was sure Zuko wouldn't do on his own fruition if it hadn't been for the pleasant peak they were both riding. "Yeah… that’s what I meant." Zuko choked out another laugh, finally resettling himself. "I’m an Aries. You didn’t ask but-”

“I don’t really care for all of that.” Sokka's admission must have caught Zulo off guard. His face twisted into something Sokka could only place as disappointment.

Sokka was being honest though, he didn't necessarily _care._

“Oh…”

“But," Sokka leaned forward a little in anticipation. "I'm a Taurus sun, Virgo moon, Aquarius rising.” Sokka didn't care, but that didn't stop his curiosity. He had no clue what all those words and symbols meant, but the teasing roll of Zuko's eyes was worth it.

Zuko hummed with a nod. “Okay, yeah that makes sense." He was playing like he didn't care, but the telling smile exposed his true excitement at the topic. "So much for not caring.”

“Listen," Sokka defended. "As a fellow queer guy-" Sokka noted the look Zuko gave him at that. He seemed shocked. As if he had lounged on the laps of hundreds of straight men before. But the expression was so fucking adorable he couldn't help but let the oblivious relization slide. He kept going with the story. "-you know how hard it is to _not learn_ way too much about astrology. My friend, Suki, while we were dating, saw my birth chart and said she almost broke up with me because my venus was in scorpio. I don’t even know what that means!"

Zuko made a face before bursting in another laughing fit. "God, not you too!"

"I didn't say it was bad!" Zuko tucked his hands under his arm pits and crossed his legs. His bottom lip found itself in between his teeth. "I'm just…. _Yeah_...yeah you would be a taurus." 

"Well, you _would_ be an aries." Sokka was hoping it would play off like a teasing insult, but Zuko only laughed harder, a snort escaping through. That made the fit of laughter last longer.

 _Note to self._ He thought. _Do everything you can to make him laugh like that again._

Sokka knows he's hilarious and it's a challenge he intends to face head on.

"Now I have to defend the honor of all aries." 

"Is that something you _can't_ do?"

"No, of course not," Zuko’s face went serious. "Aries is the best sign arguably."

Sokka didn't know enough to fight him on it but that didn't mean it stung any less. "What's the worst?"

"Scorpios, definitely."

And that one stung worse. "I'm technically a scorpio."

"Only when it comes to your love life." Zuko said it like that cleared the whole thing up. If Suki had said it was almost a deal breaker (Maybe it actually was because that was only a week before their split) then it must have been a _thing._ "Is it bad?"

"It's...aggressive." Zuko said matter of factly. He let his eyes flitter closed. "And intense and overly intimate. You can't half ass anything with them. They want to know every fucking detail about their partner, they're jealous, but loyal. I'm not saying they'll jump into relationships but they'll dance around them and wait to pounce. I could go on."

"I don't know if i want you to." It shouldn't have been that comment that made Sokka realize his fingers were still tangled in Zuko's hair and how warm he felt with the lack of distance between them. He didn't believe the stars or whatever had any saying in the way he loved but fuck that description hit the nail on the head. "What's yours?"

"Dunno."

"I doubt a guy who just went on a detailed rant about what a venus in scorpio is doesn't know his own."

"Why should it matter?" Zuko teased. "We're not dating."

"I told you mine. It's only fair."

"Aries sun Capricorn moon Libra rising…" He finally met Sokka's eyes again. Full on with no hesitation. "Venus in scorpio."

"You son of a bitch."

"Don't talk about my mother like that."

"Your father then."

"That's more accurate." If it hadn't been their second time hanging out, Sokka would have pressed a kiss to his temple. Something platonic and brotherly but in that moment it almost felt too intimate a thing to do. 

He had already said his laugh and his lips and his eyes were pretty. He had already thoroughly mussed Zuko's hair with his own fingers. He was practically cradling Zuko but when even the thought of his family gets brought up so does his fight or flight.

Zuko didn't deserve that though.

Zuko was a victim too.

_You're father's a monster, Zuko. I know you're not him but it makes how i feel about you a lot harder to parse._

Sokka wasn't quite sure what he felt yet. Definite attraction, more positive than negative. The spiraling fish on his bedroom closet came back to mind.

No need to ruin the moment. 

"You made it sound like we're so terrible." He said instead. Zuko blinked at the inclusion. _We._

"I haven't had a good track record with boyfriends, Sokka…" There was something Zuko was keeping close to his chest that Sokka wanted so desperately to know. Fuck, Zuko said he'd think like that didn't he? "So, not astronomy or astrology."

"Nope." Sokka answered, popping the P.

"Then what?"

"Mechanical Engineering."

Zuko blanched, like he was surprised that was the answer. "Impressive."

"Yeah," Sokka sighed. He did this to himself. Caught in a conversation he was trying to avoid. "Majoring in STEM is always impressive until they need the math guy to write an entrance essay."

"What’s the prompt?"

"Just the same bullshit it always is. A big moment in your life. What it has done for you as a person."

"Are you saying nothing interesting has happened?" Zuko asked with a raised eyebrow.

Of course that wasn't what he was saying. But he forced himself to block out so much shit that he couldn't get five hundred words out if he tried. Maybe thousands in an outpour of frustrations and overthinking everything he's ever done or did.

But definitely not five hundred.

"I’m saying nothing interesting enough has happened that will cover the fact that I fucked up my GPA."

"Where are you aiming for?"

"Ivy Leagues for some ungodly reason," _Because I want to prove that I'm good enough because my litter sister could do it without a second thought._ "Columbia mostly. Their program is pretty good and I want to be in the city."

"What was your GPA?

“3.54…”

“3.54?” Zuko sat up a little. He almost looked concerned. Sokka knew he had fucked up but he was hoping Zuko wouldn’t- “That’s an A minus.”

People always told him A minus like it was supposed to soften the blow. It never did, but they didn’t know that. They didn’t know him.

“It should’ve been a 4.0 or higher.”

“Well, what happened?”

“Family emergency.”

Zuko seemed to accept that enough. He glanced back at the house, more likely than not trying to piece together what could have possibly been wrong there. “Okay,” he finally said, and he turned his gaze to the grass. “I know better than to ask.”

“What happened to you tonight?” The question slipped out before Sokka had the chance to think about it.

“You should know better too.”

“You’re right, I should,” He felt there wasn’t much else he could do to fuck up Zuko’s perfect hair. He trailed back down to his nape. Massaging two small pressure points and watched as Zuko’s chest rose and fell. “But I don’t.”

“I told you,” Zuko sighed. “I broke up with Jet.”

“Jet?” He pulled his hand away like it burned. Zuko damn near pouted back up at him. “You dated Jet?”

The pout melted into something closer to a grimace. “You know him?”

“Do I know him? Hook and sword douchebag, right?” He scoffed. “He and my sister had a thing last winter I fucking hate that guy.”

Something dark passed over Zuko’s eyes. “Last winter?”

“Yeah. It was only a few weeks but he fucked her over. And he acted so high and mighty about it like-”

“Like he’s the only savior anyone will need?” Zuko said, little to no emotion in his voice. All the life that he had just seconds before drained in an instant. “Or how if you can’t fight back you deserve to be hurt.”

“Yes! Exactly! How did you- Wait, that’s stupid. You dated him. Of course you know.”

Zuko’s only response was shifting from Sokka’s lap to flop back down into the damp grass, his arms folding under his head.

“Zuko?” Sokka reached out for his cheek like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Are you o-”

“No.” The answer was sharp, but his expression was still relaxed. His eyes closed lazily as an exasperated sigh poured from his mouth. “No. I’m not okay, but I’m not at all surprised.”

“How long were you and Jet together?”

“Two years…”

“Shit I-”

“If you’re about to apologize, then don’t.” Zuko squeezed his eyes tighter and his left leg started bouncing. “It’s not worth being sympathetic over, okay? I deserved it. He was horrible to me. I was horrible to him. Of course he’d cheat, you know?”

“I’m sure you weren’t horrible.”

“No, I was. I was awful.”

“What did you do?”

“I hurt him once which adds to it but I was just awful because I’m me. He made it pretty clear.”

“Zuko-”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” He ran his tongue over his lips. “You told me to say if I started feeling anxious right?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I feel it.”

“You seem calm.”

“I’ve been having anxiety attacks my whole life, Sokka. Trust me, I know how they feel.”

“Do you need me to do anything?”

“Just keep talking to me.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. Anything?”

If there was one thing Sokka could do, it was talk. 

“Uh… Have you met Teo yet?”

Zuko shook his head and a strangled sound, a sob, scratched out of his throat. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and forced a deep and slow breath. Sokka reached forward and brushed his bangs out of the way.

“Uh, the kid in the wheelchair. Dark hair probably wearing glasses. He doesn't need them but he thinks they look cool?”

“Dad with the…” Zuko started, but the rest of the sentence got stuck. Sokka laid down as well, rolling over so he’d be chest to the ground. He’s much closer and for a moment Sokka considers that maybe Zuko wanted space. Of course he’d want space. By all means, Sokka was a stranger. A stranger who got him high and who technically triggered a panic attack. But, Zuko turned towards him. 

“His dad has _the_ eyebrows, yeah that guy. So, once when we were in robotics together I had the brilliant idea to add a motor to his wheelchair…”

He goes on any longer than he has any right to. The motor story ends with a broken leg on Sokka’s part and a gold medal on Teo’s. Zuko had calmed down a little, but when Sokka looked over, glassy golden eyes met his and Zuko rasped “Another?”

He told him about Bato and himself ice dodging when he turned thirteen while Katara and him were still in Nunavut with their grandmother. He talked about how he went to the city in the summer one time and managed to sneak his way into an, albeit free but over crowded, One Direction concert in Rockefeller Center. His defense was Katara of course but Zuko managed to choke out “You did that for Zayn.”

“How’d you know it was Zayn?”

“Because you make it obvious.”

So he was getting better.

The last story he manages is about Yue. Sokka didn’t use her name. He cursed himself inwardly for diminishing her to ‘a girl I knew.’ Not a girlfriend, not a friend, not the woman he wanted to marry. Just… a girl.

_It’s not about us right now, Yue._

Sokka admitted to his minor shopping addiction as the story unfolded. Yue was a good friend and older sister type to Katara too, but that just led to more nonsense. He stops when he tells the story about how Yue scammed a man into giving her a snow obsidian ring. It was only twenty dollars, but it meant something to Sokka. He didn’t wear it, couldn’t bring himself to, but it was packed away in the rucksack for the trip.

Second front most pocket, behind a set of hair bands.

Zuko seemed to have gotten the gist.

_'A girl he knew 'wasn’t in the picture any more._

“I had a necklace that belonged to my mother,” Zuko started, voice leveling out again, but his hands still covered his eyes. His breathing had steadied too and no tears had managed to spill over. Something that Zuko was apparently proud of. There had been a lot over the last few weeks. “Just a gold chain I wore around my wrist but… it’s probably been tossed out by now. But it’s so fucking cliche anyway, every kid who loses their mother is like _'Oh, I have this necklace to remember her by.'”_

“My sister’s choker used to be our mom’s.” Sokka offered, he wasn’t sure if it was in comfort or not.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Zuko’s expression softened as he finally dropped his hands from his eyes, folding them over his stomach. “But, you just proved my point.”

Sokka let himself laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I know but what else has big mom energy? A cookbook maybe? Stretchy jeans? Keds?”

Zuko laughed along. “My mother was a stage actress. She was trained in Kabuki but when she immigrated she kinda just stuck to western plays and musicals until she-” He caught himself with a sputter. _“Oh wow. No. No I don’t wanna unpack that._ Sorry. Uh… you are too easy to talk to.”

So he’s been told. He decides not to let Zuko know that the realization was almost mutual.

“People just look at me and like to tell me their deepest darkest secret. My vibes are just…” He brought his fingers to his lips and imitated a chef’s kiss. “Immaculate.”

“I guess I’ll have to be more on guard around you.”

That wasn’t at all what Sokka wanted, he was sure Zuko knew that already. _Venus in Scorpio and all._ “Or you could just tell me.”

"If I were to tell you anything of note, I’d need to discuss the topic with my lawyers first,” He sighed. “I have had a very bad few months.” 

“You can trust me.” Sokka insisted as he pushed up onto his knees. The grass remnants that clung to his skin itched and he was certain that it had left imprints. 

Zuko looked him over once more. It wasn’t the same look from earlier. It felt like he was being studied. Picked apart atom by atom. “I can’t trust anyone. I can’t afford to.” It sounded like he didn’t believe his own words.

“You can trust me,” He said it again, and something cracked. A few tears managed to spill over before Zuko screwed his eyes tight again.

“Okay…” He cleared his throat and forced his eyes open again. “...Okay…”

“What’s one thing you wanna see?”

“You can’t just switch topics that fast.”

“Yeah I can, just did,” Sokka said with a shrug and offered Zuko his hand. He took it with little hesitation and Sokka pulled him up so they’d both be upright. “What do you want to see and… _and_ a place you’d want to eat the most.”

“Oh shit,” Zuko looked down and studied the grass, apparently searching for his answer in the blades. “Quick succession.”

“I’m timing you.”

“Uh…”

_“Quick!”_

“Wine!” Zuko decided with a hand thrown up to the air once he finally got it. “Chile has wine.”

“Is that your final answer?” Wine wasn’t a food but Sokka let it pass because of how cute Zuko looked when he had finally settled on it. Even still, he gave him an out. 

“I would like to be very drunk and very far away from here…” The smile that had finally returned shrank away just as fast. “So yeah.”

“That was a bad answer. You could do better than that.”

“My first thought was coke from Colombia.” Zuko said with a shrug. “Not even food.”

“Oh no, that’s much worse.”

“Right? What about you? _Quickly.”_

“Easy,” Sokka lounged back so his right arm was supporting the most of his weight. He waved his hand around, painting the scene. “I want to eat everything. And I wanna see the salt flats in Bolivia. I’ve seen pictures and it looks like you’re just walking on a mirror.”

“That’s kind of out of the way, isn’t it?” Zuko asked after a moment of thought.

“See, that’s the thing,” Sokka started “I don’t know if it is or not because realistically we wouldn’t need to veer that far East _BUT_ Aang just wants so badly to see everything. I don’t think it’ll happen but, I am willing to go along for the ride. Because I’m the adult.”

“And what am I?”

“A stowaway.”

“Fuck off.” Zuko swatted at Sokka’s arm, but his hand stayed there for a moment longer before coasting down and landing atop of Sokka’s hand.

His skin felt electric.

“You can’t be mean to me,” Sokka hummed as Zuko moved in closer. “We have to live together for two months.”

“I could still drop out.”

“Like hell you could, we’re relying on that family credit card you’ve got.”

Zuko’s forward moment faltered. “Is that all?”

 _“And_ because I don’t want to be trapped in a car with the love birds up there.” He felt himself grimace at the mention of Aang and Katara. He trusted the kid of course, but it was still a little uncomfy leaving the two alone.

“I haven’t been convinced to go with you yet.”

“You need an incentive?”

Zuko nodded slowly, the bangs that Sokka so deliberately worked on keeping out of his eyes fell back down in an inky curtain. “I’d like one.”

“Okay picture this,” Both leaned in anticipation, not expecting the other to do the same. But, neither stood down. Their faces were mere inches away from each other. Sokka dropped his voice to a whisper. It was only them anyway. “You, me, white sandy beach, Chilean wine?”

Zuko bit back a smile. Sokka felt his eyes drift down to his wet pink lips. “You really settled on that wine bit, huh?”

“Drunk and far away from here, right?”

“Right,” Sokka didn’t bother working on Zuko’s bangs this time. Instead he settled on cupping his jaw, thumb running over the sharp line. “So stargazing, salt flats, sandy beach with wine.”

“What about them?” He was sure he hadn’t been listening for a moment there. By all means those were all his ideas, but they just sounded so much more inviting when Zuko said it. His voice still raspy even that close to a whisper. 

“Just a checklist. You’re the plan guy,” Yeah, he was, but Zuko said it like it was a prize to be won. Like everything was a prize to be won. “I thought you’d be into that sort of thing.”

“Oh yeah,” Sokka breathed. “All sorts of things.”

Zuko laughed. God, he had to stop doing that. He had to stop looking so perfect and so soft and so so-

“Sokka?” 

“Yeah?”

“You weren’t even listening.”

No he was. He was listening to the little things like how Zuko said his name so easily. Or how his whisper would crack when he started to smile. “Say it again then?”

Zuko brought his hand up to Sokka’s hip and started tracing lazy shapes on the exposed skin.

“Zuko,” He wasn’t sure it was a question, he just needed to say it. Just needed to hear how his own voice said the name. “Zuko.”

“Hm…” It was more a sigh than anything else, breaking off into something high pitched and needy. He was so close that his breath ghosted over Sokka’s lips. His cheeks were a deep scarlet and his breaths were going shallow.

_“Baby...”_

The pet name came too easily, and would certainly come up again purely on the eager _“Yes?”_ He got in response to it.

They lean in for a kiss at the same time, and they’re close, _they’re so close._

**“WITH A THOUSAND LIES AND A GOOD DISGUISE HIT HIM RIGHT BETWEEN THE EYES! HIT HIM RIGHT BETWEEN THE EYES!”**

Sokka couldn’t stifle the yelp that came out of him when the sudden music blasted, and that was embarrassing, sure.

But he was no match for Zuko. 

Zuko practically threw himself away from Sokka and quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket. Silencing it before the chorus could even end. He was frozen. He was horrified. His hair acted on its own laws of gravity, sticking in every cardinal direction thanks to Sokka’s affinity to run his hands through it. His shirt, once crisp and clean, was covered in wet grass and lifted just enough to see a hip bone.

“Oh my God,” Zuko scrubbed his hands over his face. _“Oh my God!”_

“The Offspring?” Sokka laughed, not at Zuko’s expense. But the poor guy just looked so put off. Truthfully, Sokka was too. “Was that an alarm?”

Zuko nodded, but didn’t open his eyes. He sat back on his knees and looked up at the sky like he wished that lightning would just take him in that moment. “It’s been my alarm since sixth grade.”

Sokka checked his own phone while Zuko’s mini crisis played out a few feet ahead of him. Yep. Four AM. “Well, look at that. You’re on time.”

“Yeah…” His deep blush didn’t budge. “Can I use your shower? We have an hour before we have to leave so I just thought I’d-”

_“Sure.”_

_“Cool.”_

_“Of course.”_

_“I’m gonna-”_

_“Go for it.”_

Zuko shot him a thumbs up and immediately regretted it based off of the frustrated eye roll directed at no one in particular as he pushed himself off the grass and clambered to the back patio. Before he made it back into the house he turned back around. “Sokka?”

Sokka pulled himself off the ground and made a deliberate show, making sure he had Zuko’s golden eyes on lock, before he responded. “Yeah, baby?”

_Apparently you can find religion in a way someone reacts to a pet name. Or find sanctuary in the way they laugh uninhibited.  
Pray _ _to a smile. That all seems pretty formative, right?_

_Oh._

_That may be a problem._


	4. Well we once were the jesters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why are you apologizing?”
> 
> “Because your emotional support animal is across the country and all I have are quartered Xanax tablets.”

_Oh._

_So this is a problem._

Not that having a shirtless man call him _Baby_ would have been a problem in itself. Not that the jolt of excitement when he heard it was inherently problematic either. Or how when it was said again it was paired with a look through a shroud of messy dark brown hair and a smile that wasn’t even cocky. It looked genuine. Inviting even. 

The problem was that it was Sokka.

It was purely lust on Zuko’s part.

Had to be.

 _Sure,_ he noticed Sokka was attractive before. But that was just a fact. If someone had held a knife to his throat and asked ‘ _Do you think Sokka’s hot?’_ Zuko wouldn’t say no.

Fuck, he’d probably say _‘Yes, and-’_ only to have it turn into one of those stupid improv games him and his sister watched in horror while being dragged to a theater camp performance that her girlfriend, Ty Lee, was in.

_Yes, and it’s objective. Yes, and everyone would think so too. Yes, and he’s so easy to talk to. Yes, and he’s still looking at me expecting a question._

“Uh-” Zuko shook his head, forcing every and all thoughts of Sokka out of his mind. As if he wasn’t still standing there looking at him like that. _“Shower...where?”_

He couldn’t even form a sentence. Zuko mentally cursed himself and the arousal that bubbled in his chest like a low simmer.

Sokka laughed, but Zuko couldn’t let himself hang onto the sound. If he did, the warmth in his cheeks would have turned into a very obvious blush if it wasn’t already. He still had a little dignity. “Upstairs. It’s to the left of my bedroom. You can’t miss it.”

Zuko nodded in thanks and pulled the sliding doors open a little harder than he needed too. He heard footsteps approach him and for a moment he considered sliding the door back and finishing what they started. Only for that dream to dissipate as soon as it appeared because not _only_ was that a very bad idea because it was _Sokka._ “Shit.”

It was bad because everyone else was just _right there._

Aang, Katara, and Sokka’s father, whom Aang introduced as Hakoda, sat in the dining room together. A third man that was all long limbs and sharp angles descended the stairs and commented on the weather. They talked over the gentle buzz of the ceiling fan. If it wasn’t for the darkness of the early morning surrounding them, Zuko would have just seen it as a normal family breakfast. Aang looked like he belonged there with his animated hand gestures and storytelling while Hakoda and Katara listened with intrigue.

A hand, _Sokka’s hand,_ settled low on his back. “Blinds were shut. They didn’t see anything.”

“There was nothing _to see,”_ His breath caught in his throat as Sokka’s hand slid from the curve of his spine to his hip. Contracting the space between them to something near nonexistent. Zuko continued on, hoping that his little display wasn’t too obvious to him. _“Is nothing to see.”_

“Like _this_ is nothing.”

His knuckles went white, his grip tightening on the sliding door handle. Sokka just made it so easy. Too easy.

Zuko had been with Jet for two years and not even once did he feel the same warm humming in his chest when his hands were on him. Against all odds, the thought of Jet made his stomach drop and the few remnants of want disappear. He slid the door closed again and worried his bottom lip between his teeth, making a conscious effort to choose his words wisely.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko turned around to meet Sokka’s eyes, losing the point of contact they once shared in the process. “I’m afraid I may have-”

_What? Led you on? Manipulated you into liking me? Convinced you that I’m a good person? Made you think I’m worth caring for? What? What am I trying to say? This can’t be real. It’s too good to be real. I must’ve done something._

Sokka was still looking at him expectantly, but he wasn’t blocking Zuko off. He kept his hands to his sides, waiting for another invitation back in. Waiting for permission. Nobody had done that with him before. “-made you _uncomfortable.”_

“Okay…” The relief on Sokka’s face was intoxicating. Zuko did everything in his power not to just grab Sokka’s wrist and put it right back where it was. “How?”

“Every sense of the word,” In the end, Zuko wasn’t the one putting Sokka’s hand back on him anyway. He did it on his own fruition, gently caging Zuko’s hips in careful hands. He forced a deep breath and let his eyes close. “Especially the negative ones.”

“Baby-” If Zuko wasn’t clinging onto that little bit of willpower he had left, he would have keeled over. Rest in Peace Zuko Hiranuma, you will _not_ be missed.

“What?” He bit back. Well, at least he hoped there was an edge to his tone. It didn’t sound sharp in his throat. He could feel his voice creep out and crack but couldn’t hear himself over the blood rushing in his ears. 

“Nothing just…” Sokka smiled so easily. Zuko was almost jealous. He hadn’t even realized he had opened his eyes again. “Just saying it… I think.”

“Well,” Zuko pushed his Sokka’s hands away from his hips, but clutched onto them once they weren’t on his body anymore. “I don’t think you should do that anymore.”

“Zuko-”

 _“Fuck.”_ _Okay, so turns out that’s not any better. It’s just him. Well, that’s great. That’s the problem. It’s just Sokka. That’s fine. That’s great._

If it wasn’t for the sudden loss of backwards balance or Sokka yanking him into his chest, Zuko wouldn’t have noticed they were interrupted.

“Katara!” Sokka said, a little too excitedly. He grabbed Zuko by the shoulders and turned him around, finding pressure points in the process that would have made Zuko melt had it been any other situation. “Good morning!”

Katara looked them up and down, with the precise eye of a little sister. In that moment she reminded Zuko of Azula. The similarities ended immediately after that moment as her concern for her older brother slipped through. “It’s barely morning.”

“Really?” Zuko couldn’t see him, but he felt Sokka wrap an arm around his shoulder and put all his weight into Zuko. Naturally, he supported him with a bent leg and his own arm around Sokka’s bare waist. He wasn’t sure if that made it better. “Oh, I hadn’t noticed. Anyway, it smells _fantastic_ in there. Did you make blueberry pancakes in honor of your nightly guest? I know Aang loves those. Hey Aang! Hi Dad! ‘Sup, Bato!”

Past Katara’s blush, Aang, Hakoda, and the third man, _Bato,_ waved back. Despite a mouthful of what were apparently blueberry pancakes, Zuko saw Aang’s expression change.

Zuko’s face contorted in confusion, trying to understand what the younger teen was attempting to convey through sugary hotcakes and a window fogged with age.

He glanced _\- Right, almost forgot -_ Actively turned his head to the left. Sure, Sokka was shirtless. He had been when Aang saw him last too. So that didn’t really change anything. His hair hadn’t been up then either, instead tossed over fully to one side so his undercut looked more like a trendy side shave.

Then it hit him.

Sokka was on his left.

His heart leapt into his throat and he felt his hand ball into a fist. His dull nails gently scraped across Sokka's skin. He felt, more than saw, Sokka turn to face him. Before their eyes met, Zuko snapped his head forward so fast that his vision took a moment too long to catch up. Which brought up problem number two.

He was still high.

It didn’t quite hit him until that moment, but his heart raced without trigger. Not that Sokka being so close to him or the realization that he was close _and_ on his blind side helped his blood pressure either. His head still felt airy, and his fingers still buzzed with energy. A nervous laugh bubbled up and out of him, snapping Katara out of her own possible embarrassment.

“What were you two doing all night?” She interrogated, with a cross of her arms. All night was an exaggeration. All night included Momo cursing him out and Jet and donuts and talking about the universe in an uber with a sixteen year old. It was the morning she should have been asking about. The last two hours of a bliss Zuko didn’t know he was capable of.

By the look of it problem number three might turn into a drug one, but that wasn’t Zuko’s fault. If it was that meant he would have to come to terms with the fact that maybe the pot wasn’t the cause of the warm and light feeling all over him. Instead it could have been exclusively Sokka’s doing. He managed to find a way to unwind him with just his hands combing gently over his scalp. Zuko was surprised he accepted the touch that eagerly. Even more surprised that he would invite it again and again and again.

“Smoking.” He admitted easily, almost taken over by Sokka’s,

“Talking.” At the exact same time. They shared a look. A laugh.

“Talk-” Zuko began.

“Smo-” Sokka began too. Another laugh. With a nod, Zuko thought it best for Sokka to take the lead. It wasn’t like either of them were lying. It was just that talking and smoking paired with their messy hair and grass clinging to their clothes and skin made the truth seem like they were hiding something too.

Which they weren’t.

Because nothing happened.

“I was just, getting to know my co-captain is all. If you’re gonna drive across a content with someone by your side you should at least know a little about them. Isn’t that right, ba- _buddy?”_ Sokka said it with such confidence that if Zuko didn’t know what actually almost slipped past his lips, he would just pass it off as a stutter. They looked at each other again. And, just to settle the platonic nature of the act, Sokka clapped Zuko’s chest twice.

_I wouldn’t mind if you clapped something-_

“Yeah!” Zuko said far too loudly. “Yeah… uh. Yes… yep. That’s what… I’m going to stop talking.”

Katara barely spared a look between the two of them before dropping her guard and letting them inside. Sokka had been right, it did smell fantastic. There was a stack of four left on the table with a pat of butter in the middle and a jar of what was either honey or fresh maple syrup. Before he had the chance to register much else, Sokka pointed out where the bathroom was again. The initial goal of a shower had long since left his mind, instead focusing on the small clear stud in Sokka’s right nostril or the fact that he was still shirtless.

Once Zuko was out of the family’s line of sight, he waved his hand in front of his face once, twice, three times. The vision trails had stopped. Maybe the abject horror of everything that had just happened sobered him up in an instant. If that didn’t do it, then the ice cold shower he took immediately after did.

The chill was invited. Zuko had become eerily familiar with the presence of heat. The heat of a summer sun stung, his father’s gaze burnt, even Jet’s heavy handed touches always left an angry trail of red behind. Then there was Sokka who ran cold. Whose fingers sent shivers up Zuko’s spine every time they connected. Not just with the inherent electricity of attraction, whether their levels of attraction towards each other were mutual or not, but with a genuine chill. It shouldn’t have surprised Zuko. The family kept the house colder than Zuko would have ever considered comfortable, and he doubted the shower would have heated up in a timely manner if a steaming one was his goal to begin with. Everything was just cold. 

He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about the cold yet.

Zuko pulled his clothes on from earlier without so much of a second thought, knowing he left his other belongings downstairs. The shower was less for cleanliness and more for thought. Thoughts that inherently became flooded with Sokka, but thoughts nonetheless. It was nice having that short moment of a teenager's clarity. Nothing mattered but his stupid crush and his stupid crush’s stupid face and his stupid smile and his stupid laugh.

If it was even a crush to begin with. Crushes involved butterflies and excitement. Zuko just felt normal. A little giddy, but overall he simply felt like himself.  
He hadn’t really felt like himself since he was thirteen. 

Zuko caught his reflection in the mirror for a moment, and forced the bile rising in his throat at his own appearance down. He should have been used to it already. The short choppy hair, the scar marring half of his face, the sharp angles, his mother’s deepset golden eyes. The warmth in their natural tone always felt off to Zuko. Like he didn’t deserve them juxtaposed with every other facet of his appearance. He shook the thought out of his head and grabbed for the hair elastic near the faucet. A small rubber band that would tear out his hair if he were to ever attempt to take it off, tragically. Even if he felt like shit about his appearance the least he could do was not make it obvious. 

Zuko combed his fingers through his damp hair, attempting to turn it into some acceptable form of style rather than the rat's nest he’d been dealing with. He missed the length. He missed being able to comb through his own hair and make it through a knot without panic seeping into his bones at the tug. He never enjoyed his ex’s aggression in bed, but even that was something he was beginning to miss. Not the pulling, twisting, or Jet knotting his fingers through his hair. But, the fact that it didn’t matter to him. That anyone could do just about anything to him and it didn’t make his throat constrict in fear or make him lash out. Ozai had ruined a lot of things for Zuko in his eighteen years of life, but being able to look at himself and finally, _finally,_ not see his father looking back was a surprising benefit.

He still looked like him, unfortunately, but all the damage made him distinct. Even Azula was a carbon copy of their mother. He should have been thankful.

Zuko finally combed through enough to separate his hair with a clean part and pulled it into a half up ponytail. His bangs were shaggy and overgrown thanks to the moment of sanity he had not to take a scalpel to those as well. It also helped that they hid the scar.

Bangs, short hair, scar, mother’s eyes, lower cheekbones-

_Shit, I’m doing it again._

He flipped the lights off and marched back down the steps. No need to get lost in his own appearance. No need to convince himself of something that is arguably untrue. No need to cling desperately to the idea that if he could erase his history or his name that he could have Sokka.

Because he didn’t want him.

Because it wasn’t even a crush.

It was less than a crush. It was _physical attraction._ It was cockblocking himself while at Jet’s house and still desperately craving some release. A release he would have given himself the pleasure of having while in the shower if even thinking about Jet didn’t send him into a tailspin.

He made it to the kitchen table with a wave from Aang, a cordial handshake from Hakoda and Bato, a deliberate avoidance from Katara, and a _‘come here’_ from Sokka.  
Sokka, who had tied his hair back and pulled on an open sided white t-shirt that repped a broadsword league team’s name and logo on it in navy.

Zuko made a conscious effort to hide the butterflies he felt when he realized their knees touched when he sat down beside him.

So maybe it was a crush. Or simply the buzz of human contact. Surely not the result of Sokka’s breath on his jaw when he leaned over and asked “You like blueberry pancakes, right?”

He did. But, he couldn’t find it in him to eat in that moment. Everything felt like just a little too much. And the proximity of Sokka wasn’t helping the cause. “No,” Zuko finally said, forcing his voice to be casual. “It’s fine, I’m not hungry.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, we ate like two hours ago.”

Sokka seemed to take that as answer enough, pulling the plate from the center to himself and dousing it with a generous amount of syrup. His hand rested on the back of Zuko’s chair and he instinctively leaned back. Without so much as a glance over, Sokka thumbed along Zuko’s shoulder blade.

_It was just so easy._

A conversation about what the fastest route to the airport turned into a playful debate about the pros and cons of the Pray Road route and the NY-68 route to Ogdensburg. It was mostly led by Hakoda with additional input from Bato and Sokka siding with Pray road being faster. Katara countered it with the speed of the freeway and Aang sided with her because of the Tim Hortons off the exit. Zuko almost added his own input, because realistically what they were fighting over was less than a mile difference and Sokka made it clear that speaking up was something that was expected when his father switched sides when the option of Tim Hortons was brought up with a “Dad we’re _barely_ Canadian, and it’s not even that good.” Only to be interrupted by his phone lighting up against the faux oak table.

Aang suggested donuts and Katara switched sides, knowing that Aang didn’t need that much sugar. Zuko would have said something then too if his heart hadn’t stopped beating.

_From: Zhao Shira (lawyer)_ _  
_ _ >> Where the fuck are you? _ _  
_ _ >> You’re pathetic. One thing goes wrong and you run _

_From: Azula_ _  
_ _ >> Dad’s looking for you _ _  
_ _ >> ??? _ _  
_ _ >> Should I be celebrating the fact that I’m an only child now? _ _  
_ _ >> Zuzu _ _  
_ _ >> I can do this all night _ _  
_ _ >> And I will _ _  
_ _ >> I’ll get Mai to make your in memoriam _ _  
_ _ >> Take a selfie, I need it to be post-burn _ _  
_ _ >> You know _ _  
_ _ >> For your memorial _ _  
_ _ >> Because Father _ _  
_ _ >> is _ _  
_ _ >> LOOKING FOR YOU _

_From: Mai_ _  
_ _ >> What happened? _ _  
_ _ >> Your dad’s pissed, Zuko _

_From: Ty Lee_ _  
_ _ >> ZUKO  
__> > WHAT THE HELL  
__> > WHAT  
__> > THE  
__> > HELL  
__> > ???_

_From: Jet_ _  
_ _ >> You’re really running away aren’t you? _ _  
_ _ >> It’s not like I’m surprised, I just thought you were better than that _ _  
_ _ >> And now i’m in the fucking middle of it, so thanks _ _  
_ _ >> Cops were at my fucking apartment, dude _

_From: Father_ _  
_ _ >>[IMG-06021] _ _  
_ _ >>[IMG-06035] _ _  
  
_

“Zuko,” Sokka looked at him with a half cocked smile, the thumbed circles hadn’t even slowed down. “It’s your call.”

“What?” Zuko’s delivery must have given his panic away, because Sokka’s expression melted into something bordering on serious.

“Freeway or main road?” Something unsaid lingering in the questions, but Zuko couldn’t make himself parse through what was meant.

“Which is faster?” He asked, flipping his phone screen side down, hoping his brightness was low enough that the others hadn’t caught what his father had texted him. The others at the table groaned. _Right, faster was what they were debating in the first place._ “Uh, freeway. But no Tim Hortons. We already had breakfast.”

“You didn’t though,” That time Bato spoke up, leaning in with a concerned furrow of his brow. “Is everything okay, son?”

Sokka’s hand was still on his shoulder, Bato just called him son, Hakoda made blueberry pancakes, Aang was in the middle of an oversized bite and even Katara looked concerned over Zuko’s wellbeing. He almost laughed. It would have been bordering on hysterical and unceasing. It would have happened because he didn’t want to cry in front of them. It would have happened because every single fucking thing about that moment just felt too…

Too easy.

So he shook his head no instead, a tight lipped smile plastered on his face. It was all he could manage. They didn’t need to know Zuko’s father practically sent him his death certificate. But they already knew something was wrong, so he shook his head no again.

“The difference is less than a mile, right?” Zuko managed, even though all the eyes on him felt overwhelming. He flipped his phone over and brought it close enough to him that the others probably wouldn’t catch it. And if they did, they wouldn’t know what it was or who it was from. Sokka may have, with his stilled hand inching further away from Zuko’s shoulder and back to the edge of the chair. “So, freeway, no Tim Hortons. We’d be there in like, fifteen minutes.”

“We can totally make it in ten,” Sokka offered, his smile returning like nothing had happened, though his eyes dipped down at the glowing screen. “Traffic laws aren’t really a thing at five in the morning anyway.”

Zuko wasn’t really listening at that point as the rest finished up their breakfast and cleaned their plates. Instead, entirely distracted by the most recent texts.

Azula sent an additional set of three question marks and his father sent another image, which only made the stirring in his stomach that much worse. The first two were pictures of a map with pinpointed locations. One right above the boy’s home with Gyatso, and another in the middle of Potsdam. They were taken from google maps, screenshots obviously. But his father wouldn’t put that much effort into it. Ozai was meticulous, but the screenshots were out of his league of intimidation. They had to have been automated, approximate locations sent from Zuko’s phone that he simply saved and sent back.

Azula and Zuko had discussed the possibility of their father tracking them on their phones, but at the time it didn’t matter much. She even talked him into being happy that he tracked them. He didn’t trust them, of course, but he _almost_ cared. He cared enough for the two of them to realize it only reported back a three mile radius. Mai managed to extend the reach to about ten miles, because she cared for her friends differently than their father did.

That did nothing to ease the way his heart seized at the third text. It was a clear picture, one taken during daylight, of Sokka’s family home.

He went back to the thread of texts from his little sister and took a deep breath.

_Azula always lies._

_But maybe this time is different._

_To: Azula_ _  
_ _he wanted me gone so why is he looking << _

Almost instantly, he got a response. It wasn’t like Azula to sleep at regular hours anyway.

_From: Azula_ _  
_ _ >> Oh _ _  
_ _ >> He’s alive _ _  
_ _ >> I’ll cancel the floral arrangement I ordered _ _  
_ _ >> Too bad. The casket I picked out was mahogany. It was nice _ _  
  
_

_what’s happening? << _ _  
  
_

_ >> Something between disowning you and _ _  
_ _putting out a search party. Whichever happens first_ _  
  
_

_scarring me wasn’t enough? << _ _  
  
_

_ >> Fuck no, he’s moving onto bigger and grander things _

_like? << _ _  
_ _??? << _ _  
_ _azula << _

Moments later a picture came through. Azula had herself framed in the foreground, undone hair, sharp eyes, and her forehead took up the majority of the screen. She held up a peace sign, light reflecting off of sharp red acrylics. She was reclining on an oversized couch, Mai and Ty Lee glancing back behind her. In the background were red and blue lights flooding in through the oversized windows. Zuko immediately recognized the location as the estate in the Catskills.

Another string of texts from Azula came through.

 _From: Azula_ _  
_ _ >> I’ll take this as a lesson  
__> > Never try for emancipation and use years of child   
__abuse as the reasoning.  
__> > Claiming neglect might have worked a little better, Zuzu  
__> > Still abuse, but at least he didn’t disfigure you   
__permanently even though you’ve also become_ _  
_ _sort of a public figure just by being his son_ _  
_ _therefore ruining a power grab twenty years in_ _  
_ _the making if you’re so much as seen_ _  
_ _let alone talk about it  
__> > Oh shit  
__> > That did happen, didn’t it?_

 _i never came forward about it zhao wouldn’t let me <<  
_ _police??? << _

_ >> Looking for you  
__> > As if we’re dumb enough to harbor you  
__> > Expect money from father, I think he’s trying to   
__tell us to shut the fuck up  
__> > In so few words  
__> > Or maybe a missing persons ad idk he may   
__want the sympathy vote  
__> > Poor man, children of immigrants who made their way in the US  
__> > Who struggled for years to gain an empire,  
__fucking up the lives of other immigrants and natives  
__> > His gay son is missing. A tragedy. Vote Ozai  
__> > Of course they’ll mention sexuality because   
__you gotta get the mod white gay votes somehow._ _  
_ _As if his much better child isn’t a whole lesbian.  
__> > But I digress_

Zuko began typing out a response, something long and angry, only to be interrupted by his sister again.

_From: Azula_

_ >> You’re really doing it, aren’t you? _ _  
_ _ >> This is the one time I’ll ever be jealous of you _ _  
_ _ >> So don’t fuck it up _

Zuko’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a moment, reading and re-reading what his sister had sent. Aang called for him from outside, reminding them they had to make it to the airport in time. Zuko nodded in response and keyed in a quick goodbye.

 _To: Azula_ _  
_ _ << two more years _

_ >> I’ll survive _

_ << you’ll delete this right? _

_ >> Of course _ _  
_ _ >> I’m not an idiot _

That was one of the few things they could agree on. Zuko tucked his phone into his pocket and joined the others outside, pleasantly surprised by the sun beginning to make its presence. Washing over the street with warmth that would have been inviting if Zuko wasn’t already on edge.

They made it the first few minutes into the drive to the airport with minimal fanfare. Hakoda drove while Bato took the passenger seat, leaving the four teenagers to squeeze into the back. Sokka and Aang took up the middle while Katara sat behind Bato and Zuko behind Hakoda. As they pulled onto the entrance ramp, Sokka leaned in close, offering an earbud.

“Hm?” Zuko put the offered earbud in without much thought and Sokka handed over his phone with the notes app open. Before he had the chance to read the paragraph, Sokka spoke up.

“I’ll let you choose whichever playlist you want. I made all of them myself so obviously they’re amazing. Stay clear of the one with the snowflake as the cover though, it’s mostly sad lo-fi shit. Not that I think you wouldn’t be into that sorta thing. It’s just your alarm was The fucking Offspring, you know?”

Zuko nodded, but didn’t answer. Too focused on what was written in front of him on the digitized construction paper.

> _**I need to know if you’re okay. Does your dad know where you are? Is that a bad thing? I know he’s an asshole, obviously, but what else is going on?** _

Zuko typed a quick response. **_‘Need is a big word.’_** And handed the phone back to Sokka. “Well, don’t presume to know who I am or what I like.”

Sokka typed in and flipped the phone around, an expectant look on his face.

> _**Want, then?** _

Zuko snatched the phone back and Sokka leaned in closer as Zuko typed away again. “Pick or else I’ll just put my likes on shuffle and you’ll be bombarded with early 2000s pop.”

“You have better music taste than that.” Zuko said.

“I have the range, buddy,” If Sokka could have been more in Zuko’s already limited space, he would be. His left leg swung over Zuko’s right and he spoke with his hands passing in front of Zuko’s vision in large gestures. In the corner of his eye he noticed navy blue crocs on Sokka’s feet that he didn’t even have the willpower to make fun of in a way that navy crocs worn in ‘sports mode’ deserved. He’d get back to that later. “You’ve never experienced true happiness until you hear the transition from The Show Must Go On to Hit Me Baby One More Time.”

“I must have never experienced true happiness then.” Zuko handed the phone back and watched Sokka’s eyes as he skimmed it. He had thought about Sokka’s eyes before, in a way that anyone would think about blue eyes. Not anything other than pure aesthetic appreciation. But, the usual clear blue melted into something stormy and the corners of his lips turned down.

> _**My dad’s an asshole, he knows where I am, yes that is a very bad thing. No, I’m not okay. I won’t be okay for awhile.** _
> 
> _**Also your crocs are ugly** _

“Let me help with that?” Zuko wasn’t entirely sure if Sokka’s question was about the music or the message.

“It’s harder than you think.”

“It’s worth a try, right?”

Britney Spears began to play. The fact that it wasn’t Hit Me Baby One More Time wasn’t lost on Sokka. He insisted Zuko wouldn’t appreciate it so shortly after talking about it. The gods of spotify had to have control of the shuffle. It just so happened that Sokka had Spears’ entire discography in his likes. And The Beatles. And Drake. And Beyonce. And Rainbow Kitten Surprise. And Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros.  
Zuko hadn’t heard of the last one, but Sokka ensured that it was something that would become familiar. Whether he liked it or not.

Fifteen minutes felt like fifteen seconds with Sokka so close to him. He couldn’t hear much of anything from the others in the car, especially with Sokka’s consistent commentary or mumbling of the lyrics he half knew. But, the few moments he caught what sounded like a deep conversation of the merits of ice fishing and what locations from Bato and Hakoda to the front of him and Aang being taught how to braid from Katara using the frays of his carry-on bag from the right. 

It was nice.  
It was normal.  
It was _easy._

They didn’t make it past the security line in the airport before another face from his past showed up. But this one was invited. Zuko would have dropped everything and ran to the old man and let himself be held in forgiving arms for a minimum of ten minutes if it wasn’t for his connection to Sokka via ten inches of headphones. The old man managed to get to him first anyway, bum rushing the group from his spot on a bench by the sliding doors.

“Uncle what are you-” Zuko barely managed before he wrapped in a hug, interrupting the lulling voice of Mama Cass singing a song to those she loved from Sokka’s earbuds.

Uncle didn’t say anything, instead breaking the hug to cup Zuko’s face. _Like a child,_ Zuko couldn’t help but think as he made a half assed attempt to break away, _he still treats me like a child._

“Your father doesn’t know,” Zuko wasn’t sure if that was meant to be a question or not, he glanced over his shoulder, trying to see if his new friends were watching. Katara had trudged ahead with Aang following her reluctantly. He knew Uncle already, so Aang had no reason to worry anyway. Sokka followed them, picking up Zuko’s leather drawstring bag along with his own, but he walked backwards. He didn’t like the feeling of being watched, so he snapped his head back around just as his uncle continued. “He doesn’t know.”

“I don’t know,” He managed, barely above a whisper. “He wasn’t really trying until last night. I don’t know what happened. I was with Jet and-”

“I got a call-”

“You’re not the only one. A few group homes have too… I didn’t think he’d care.”

“Zuko,” Uncle’s hands went from his cheeks to his shoulders, grounding him in that spot. “That isn’t what caring should feel like.”

He hadn’t even realized he said that outloud. “I know Uncle.”

“When you come back, just stay with me in the city alright?” There was something in his eyes that made it obvious. _If you come back. If you feel safe. If you forgive._

Zuko knew the chances were slim to none. No one plans to come back when they run away. Aang was just a convenient excuse. Sokka was just a convenient distraction he was leading on. Even Uncle seemed to believe that Zuko would crawl back. Never in his life had Azula been the only one to believe him. “Okay.” He said instead, because there was no use in explaining.

“Two months?”

 _I’m sorry, Uncle._ “More or less.”

The old man smiled. “Call me everyday.”

“Every week.”

“Every other day?”

“Fine.”

He pulled him into another hug, Zuko almost pulled away and cut the exchange short. Then his uncle’s grip tightened as he leaned in close to Zuko’s right ear.

“No money trail, no public social media-”

“So you knew?”

“I want you safe and as far away from him as possible,” Uncle pulled away and looked him up and down. “Fleeing and running are not the same thing.”

“Uncle-”

_“Stay safe.”_

The request felt harder than it should have as he ran to catch up with his friends.

The security line was shorter than Zuko had ever experienced, having only flown out of major airports before. With only five people in front of him, besides those he was already traveling with, he had to scramble to get his ID and pull up his flight ticket on his phone. Zuko lingered on the card, the picture made him look ten years younger than he actually was. His hair had been pulled back in a tight bun and his skin was clear. No smile, of course, he had only gotten it retaken because his own before that had been from him as a middle schooler. Who would have thought that freshly seventeen vs freshly eighteen would have made that significant of a difference?

In retrospect, Zuko should have.  
He glanced up and watched a woman in front of him get waved through, leaving Zuko roughly a minute to get his shit together.

He unlocked his phone without much of a second thought. Purposefully ignoring the lockscreen of the artwork that had adorned Jet’s wall. The home screen, a screenshot of a video Zuko had taken with Jet and him in bed only lit by his phone’s flash with varying degrees of wicked smiles, wasn’t much better. Fuck, Zuko didn’t realize how bad he had it. They both had faint bruises scattering their face and necks of two very distinctly different qualities. Zuko’s own eyes looked hollow, tired even. Aang had just gotten him back home after an urgent care visit and like an idiot the first thing Zuko did was call Jet. Like he’d solve everything.

Another text popped up, overtaking the screen.

_From: Father_ _  
_ _ >>[IMG-20694] _ _  
_ _ >> Airport...should have known. _

A screenshot of the airport from any other person wouldn’t have made his blood run cold. Zuko was suddenly overly aware of the cameras stationed in the corners of the ceilings, and his ID in his hand. If he was running away, he might as well commit fully to it.

Or rather, he was fleeing.

Neither fixed the shame in the concept.

Perhaps he was merely surviving.

Uncle had simplified the act of running away. Or at least the act of disappearing. Zuko knew the money trail trick. Of course he wouldn’t use social media, he hadn’t so much as looked at it since his incident anyway. But there was still the issue of the phone.

As Sokka scanned his ticket in, Zuko worked away at peeling his case off his cellphone. The shatterproof glass cover wouldn’t be necessary, or even reusable with it’s barely functional adhesive. He snapped it in half and tossed it into the garbage can initially dedicated to oversized liquids. He tucked the case back into his pocket and went to scan the phone.

The woman scanned it without much of a second look and went to hand it back to Zuko with a request of “ID please.”

He reached out, but pulled his hand back a second too soon and watched as it flipped onto the concrete with a heart wrenching shatter.  
That one hurt a little more than Zuko wished it had. “Fuck…” He sighed, forcing more disappointment then natural into his voice as the security woman scrambled for an apology. She waved him through without another mention of his ID.

It wasn’t like the news of Ozai’s son running away was public yet, or even would be. But, Zuko thought better to cover that track while ahead of the game anyway.

Sokka looked back at him, moreso at the tiny shards of glass falling away from the touchscreen, with a wince. “Did it survive?”

Zuko flipped it over, examining the damage. It had landed exactly on it’s bottom left corner and bounced, flipping over to its front. The thumbprint lock still worked, but instead of being met with Jet’s bedroom eyes, half the screen was black. With every swipe, more glass chipped off.

Zuko had never been happier for how breakable those damn things were.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

Katara’s eyes followed the arc of the decimated iPhone as it joined it’s cover and several mysterious liquids into the trash can with a look of horror on her face. “You’re calm.” She said instead from the opposite side of the metal detector. Aang glanced behind, only then realizing that the crushing sound had been Zuko’s phone and not someone else’s. 

“I was due for another one anyway,” Zuko shrugged as he toed his all black sk8 hi-top vans off and put them on the conveyor belt. Right beside Sokka’s crocs. “I’ll just buy another one at LAX.”

Katara’s “Another one?” was almost overtaken by Aang’s, just as shocked reaction.

“You can just… do that?” He looked back over his shoulder, arms spread in a T as the machine whirred around him.  
“Yeah, why not?” Sokka defended him with ease. The comment almost took Zuko by surprise. “Bigger airports are basically malls. You can do that sort of thing.”

For the moment it felt nice having Sokka on his side. Or at least, have him be unquestioning in what could easily be seen as odd behavior. Because it was. It wasn’t like everyone made a show of breaking their phone and tossing it into a garbage bag that was filled with mysterious liquids. Probably more than a few gallons worth based on the small splash that Zuko heard before it sunk to the bottom.

But, it wasn’t surprising that the curious nature was back as they stood in front of a third party ATM right beside their gate with thirty minutes before boarding. The sleek black and metallic credit card slid into the machine and Zuko pressed the number pad three times.

It was the fourth and fifth presses that got the reaction.

“Hey, Zuko?” Sokka asked, the already familiar weight of his hand clapped down onto Zuko’s shoulder?

“Hm?”

“Whatcha doin?”

“Possibly committing credit card fraud,” Zuko looked over his shoulder with the initial intention just to meet Sokka’s eyes but instead was met with four pairs staring in confusion. Zuko wasn’t sure if playing it off as a joke would have worked either because a withdrawal of 1,200 would have already been a lot but he went ahead and added another zero. It wasn’t like the family card ever declined before. “Why?”

“Yeah…” Sokka hesitated. “That's kinda what I thought.”

“Would it make you feel better if the money is Ozai’s?” For a moment Zuko regretted saying that. _Father_ was so much less invasive than _Ozai._ With Ozai came a reminder. With Ozai came coups and burns and non disclosure agreements. With Ozai Hiranuma came Zuko Hiranuma.

Zuko couldn’t help wonder how difficult it would be to fake an ID and if so, what last name would he be willing to take.

Katara and Sokka shared a look. Something passed between them that Zuko couldn’t decipher. “I mean...sorta.” Sokka said before breaking the gaze with his sister. Katara didn’t have the same sentiment as her face twisted into some amalgamation of disgust and frustration.

“Zuko,” Aang started, taking a step closer to the ATM. “What’s happening?”

“I thought we’ve been over the whole committing fraud thing,” Zuko said as he turned back to the machine. “I mean it’s not fraud, it's money that I already have access too. I just… _won’t pay it back._ I’ll fuck up my father’s credit score on the way out. It’s the only way to get an economist to notice.”

“Your ex would love this sort of thing,” Aang countered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No, he’d be disappointed,” Zuko’s hands hovered over the withdrawal button. “What’s twelve divided by four?”

“Three,” Sokka answered quickly. “Wait you aren’t-”

“This is a very small airport; it might not have enough cash. Three each sounds good, right?”

“Three what?” It was Katara who spoke up in that moment, making a show of her disappointment in Zuko’s actions by putting her hands on her hips. 

_Maybe this is a bad idea._

“...Thousand?” Zuko didn’t mean for it to come out like a question, especially when it was only met with mouths agape in either shock or confusion. “I can get more, but fifteen hundred a month per person sounded fine."

“I hate rich people.” Apparently, that was the wrong thing to suggest because Katara marched away towards the gate with Aang following close behind. But, Sokka stayed. His eyes followed where his sister went and his arms were crossed over his chest. The way his face contorted made it obvious he was mulling over something. The only sound that filled the uncomfortable silence between the two was the electric hum of the ATM spitting out bills and an announcement about Flight 532 to Los Angeles boarding in twenty minutes.

The machine beeped and flashed a green light once it was finished. Zuko stared down the offending stack of money. Maybe Jet was right. Maybe the _blood money_ wasn’t something to partake in.

Fleeing verses surviving verses running away.

“Hold onto this.” Zuko handed the money back to Sokka in hopes the teen would have somewhere safe to store it in his multi pocketed backpack. Sokka did so without so much a look at Zuko for any longer than he needed to.

It was weird, the cold but inviting nature from earlier was bordering on hot. Zuko wouldn’t apologize to Sokka, he wouldn’t explain. Fuck, the guy should be thankful that he thought about them first. He knew Aang had stored away a measly three hundred dollars for the trip. Most of that being provided by Gyatso after Aang insisted money wouldn’t be an issue. If money _wasn’t_ an issue then they wouldn’t have needed to drop a little less than a thousand dollars to ship the car to California. Or, the fact that each plain ticket was three hundred dollars wouldn’t have been a heated discussion at the boy’s home’s dinner table. Food, hotels, the sights that the group were desperate to see. All of those were money issues. All of them were problems that Zuko could solve for them. 

“Am I the sugar baby of this relationship?” Sokka teased, the smile returning the same moment Zuko’s card was spit from the machine. He’d probably have to cut it up and throw it away, but there was no way in hell he’d do it with Sokka watching. 

“Usually sugar babies have established contracts before they commit to something,” Zuko commented with a shrug in hopes to derail the thrumming in his chest. “At least the smart ones do.”

“You had that answer ready.”

“My father is a very rich and powerful man.”

“Oh…” Sokka’s face twisted as they walked shoulder to shoulder towards the terminal. _“Ew…”_

“Listen, buying silence is something he does regularly. We’ll call it reparations. Besides, you said I’m here because I have money. Now we’re all on equal footing.”

If equal footing had to mean a credit card cut up and distributed between fifteen different trash cans with the same reverence as someone sprinkling a loved one's ashes into the Atlantic then so bet it.

It wasn’t normal but it was nice, easy. Invited even. _Good._

It was good.

Freedom from his father entirely was a pipe dream, but stepping outside towards the boarding stairs made the concept feel so much more realistic. The night’s blues and silvers had finally lost its grip on the sky. The mid-summer warmth of the sun seeped into his dark clothes. Oranges, pinks, and reds, danced off the Airbus’ pristine exterior and painted the tarmac with lanky shadows.

His gaze would flit from those shadows and speedy ground power units to Sokka. His skin glowed in the warm hues of the early morning and the light got caught in his eyes.Triceps flexing with the shouldering and readjusting of his oversized carry on. Zuko thought back to two am. Sokka pacing the kitchen while rambling on about anything and everything. He would lean forward on the counter whenever he got excited about a conversation topic, hands clasping together or finding themselves palm down on the counter with wide bloodshot eyes. His hair parted down the middle and framing his face like an oil painting. His lips on a pipe, quirking an eyebrow and locking his gaze with the flame.

Zuko sighed as he flopped down onto his seat along the walkway in the plane. It was a bad time to become infatuated with someone he shouldn’t. Even worse time to let his obvious attraction wander and grow as Sokka sat behind him. Zuko couldn’t tell if it was the luck of randomized seating or a burden in purchasing his own ticket so late. A few rows ahead were Katara and Aang, separated only by an armrest between them with an empty window se-

 _Oh._ So, not the luck of randomized seating. It was the doing of a near empty plane and two passengers to the left of Zuko already distracting themselves with work and sleep.

“You gave up a good seat.” Zuko said as he twisted around to see Sokka futz with the directions of how one would use the face masks above them if the plane were to crash.

“You’ve never had to deal with Katara and Aang in the same space,” Sokka countered, meeting Zuko’s eyes despite still gripping tight onto the manual. “What I gave up was five hours of oogies.”

“Oogies?”

“You know like,” He cringed and wiggled his fingers in an attempt to prove a point. _“Oogies.”_

“I’ll take your word.”

The gentle hum of the airplane cabin took the space of conversation. He bought a mini water bottle from a flight attendant as she made her rounds and he could feel Sokka’s knees pressed up against the back of his chair bouncing. Neither of them spoke again until another flight attendant began the demonstration of seatbelts and chair cushion floaties.

When the nervous bouncing picked up speed, Zuko turned around.

“What’s up?” Sokka looked surprised that Zuko would even notice as if the limited space did anything to help hide his cause.“Nothing.”

“Your leg.”

“I’m just,” He sighed and placed a heavy hand on his own knee. The bouncing didn’t cease, but it wasn’t shaking Zuko’s seat anymore. “I hate flying. It’s not a big deal it’s just-”

 _“Because it makes you sick_ or _because it freaks you out?_ Because, if you expect to puke I’m making you move back to Aang and Katara’s row.”

“It doesn’t _freak me out_ , okay?” Sokka held up a hand in defense. “I just… I like planning.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

“And something about knowing the fifteen exits and how to strap a flotation device to my chest just calms my little he-” The plane moved forward with a lurch and Sokka froze, gripping the back of Zuko’s chair. _“Heart…”_ He finished, leaving crescent indents in the faux leather as the airplane cruised at a normal speed towards the point of takeoff.

Maybe it was the remnants of the crush crisis from a few minutes prior still clinging onto the soft feelings Zuko had about Sokka, but he reached his hand back.

When all he got in response was the feeling of eyes glued to his open palm, Zuko spoke up. “Give me your hand”

“What?”

“It may not freak you out but that doesn’t change the fact that everyone hates taking off,” Zuko looked past the chair again and met blue eyes. “So, give me your hand.”

Sokka did it. The motion was eager, but in the few hours of actually knowing him that was expected. Even the gentle feeling of a calloused thumb rubbing over his knuckles and the awkward trade off of the spare earbud without unlinking hands was anticipated.

It was when Sokka spoke up again, interrupting the Hobo Johnson song split between the two of them, that genuinely surprised Zuko. His grip tightened as the airplane’s wheels left the dark concrete and they angled upwards. “Got anything stronger?” He said, voice barely holding the concern that was knitted into his expression. “I mean, as much as I love the power of _friendship-”_

“I have Xanax,” Zuko offered with a shrug. “I think it’s folded in between-”

“I was joking”

“I wasn’t.”

_“Jesus…”_

It shouldn’t have taken Zuko that long to realize that maybe offering notoriously addictive prescription benzos was not nearly on par with offering to smoke up a casual friend. He sputtered while trying to rescind the offer and maybe save the image that Sokka had of him. _Not a junkie, I swear. I’m just coming off of a really traumatic month._

“Just forget I said that.” Zuko mumbled instead with a tight lipped smile as he turned back around. If he wasn’t connected to Sokka by ten inches of wire he would have sunk deep into his seat. Or ran and hid in the airplane bathroom. They had only been in the air for five minutes, so by all means he had time to do both.

There was another hour filled with casual banter about Sokka’s expansive music taste. Twist of Fate by Olivia Newton-John (Sokka made a point of it not being the version from the Stranger Things soundtrack) faded into Last Nite by the Strokes. Then that turned into From Eden by Hozier and Zuko had to do everything in him not to think too hard about Sokka singing the line _“Babe, there’s something tragic about you. Something so magic about you-”_ Breathily like he didn’t even realize he was saying it out loud.

His riffs were a little flat though, which didn’t do shit for the buzz that reverberated across Zuko’s chest at the image of Sokka singing it full voice on an open road in the middle of nowhere. Just the two of them with no responsibilities.

Except Aang and Katara would be there. And, Sokka had responsibilities. Sokka was going to go back after all of it. He’d get accepted into some school with a kick ass essay. Aang would go back to life in high school, or worse he’d leave to do something else. Peace corp, hiding away in a mountain range, etc. Nobody could keep that kid in one place for a long time. Zuko just happened to catch Aang when his wings were clipped for his own good. He doubted he’d ever be close to Katara but even her annoyed glances were invited when his father’s disgusted and sharp glares were what hers were competing against. 

Zuko forced a deep breath. Then another. And another.

He wouldn’t have known that it was a John Vincent III lyric that rang in his head saying _“Missed me more than you hoped you would.”_ If it wasn’t for Sokka commenting how a girl he used to date loved that guy and that song. After the comment, he skipped it. He skipped the next few until a song by The Who started to play.

Another deep breath and rattling turbulence that dropped them maybe fifteen feet. Sokka’s grip tightened around his hand. Zuko had almost forgotten he was still holding it. 

“I may take you up on the Xan offer, buddy.” Sokka whispered through gritted teeth.

“My carry-on is in the overhead,” Zuko offered, craning his neck as he watched the boy clamber out of his seat and pull out his side of the ear buds. If he let his eyes linger on the muscle definition along Sokka’s flanks then no one noticed enough to call him out on it. “Bottom of the bag in a ziploc pretty sure it’s folded in a pair of red shorts.”

“The dolphin ones?” Sokka asked as he yanked down the bag with one hand and balanced himself by gripping onto the ridge where the carry-on bin would latch with the other.

“What-”

Before Zuko could get his full question out, Sokka continued. “Retro, nylon sidings, cherry red, no string which I thought was kinda weird but- Oh, here they are.”

“Yeah those… why did you-”

“Is a half dose good?”

“It’s already quartered.”

“You sir, are a lifesaver,” Sokka smiled down at him and mussed up his hair which Zuko would have moved away from if it was anybody else. But _anybody else_ wouldn’t go back to fix his tousled mane and then cup his jaw to tilt his head up so their eyes would meet. “Can I borrow your water bottle?”

“Just take it dry.”

“Baby,” _Oh God._ “I didn’t think-"

 _“Here! Just take it,”_ Zuko forced his still half full water bottle Sokka’s way, hoping that his blush wasn’t obvious and that his pupils didn’t dilate or anything else so obviously telling. Sokka’s smile grew and Zuko knew his hope was futile. “I was almost done anyway.”

Zuko _didn’t_ watch Sokka as he made his way to the back of the plane bathroom to take the pill and whatever else he planned on doing. Absolutely not. He was simply reaching back to see the name of the song that was playing.

_Hadestown, Epic III. Interesting. Oh, and Flick of the Wrist? What a wide range in music. Sex on Fire? You know what I think I want the musical theater back._

Hearing about Hades painting the world with rust was a pleasant distraction for a few minutes until the other boy returned and tucked the plastic baggy into his own backpack.

Sokka greeted him with a “Did I miss anything, baby?” and Zuko just mentioned that he knew Sokka was a closet theatre kid which shouldn’t have surprised him with how his sleepless voice even sounded entrancing aside from the flats.

He had it bad.

He had it _so fucking bad._

He had it so bad that if Sokka even so much as mentioned the concept of the mile high club, Zuko would insist it’s a part of the travel-the-world experience. _You, me, four cubic feet of gray plastic and an unfunctional lock. A really sexy first time that really shouldn’t even_ ** _be_** _a first time what the fuck is wrong with me?_

So, _that_ was the plane ride.

He ended up replacing his phone with the exact same model as before and was more excited then anyone had any right to be about having their own phone plan.

The ride to the hotel was less tense thanks to Zuko taking the front seat while Sokka was still half out of it. Face pressed into the window with drowsy eyes and a finger drawing meaningless shapes onto Zuko’s arm through the small opening between the chair and the car door.

He needed to stop it before it got too far. Before he needed Sokka’s casual touch like he needed air in his lungs. He could have pulled his arm away and crossed it over his chest, but what if Sokka reacted?

What if a deep needy whine scratched out of his throat? What if he called him _Baby_ in a sleep rasped voice because he had slept the last three hours of the flight? What if he sat up in his seat just enough to press a kiss against Zuko’s neck?

He’d be done for.

Funny how he managed to go from _barely a crush_ to _near infatuated and wouldn’t mind if Sokka folded him over the hood of the honda civic they were picked up in_ , in less than ten hours. And by funny, Zuko meant humiliating.

He was doing it again. He had done it with Jet too. The passion boiled over and it turned into anger. Two years that Zuko had very strong feelings about but he couldn’t decipher whether they were positive or negative. He had come out to his dad with dire results. Jet offered his home and his bed for three weeks. They traveled together. Went to a few marches together. They even ended up in California for one of them with Aang tagging along.

Maybe Zuko just had an awfully niche type and Sokka just so happened to fall in perfectly after Jet had been removed.

But, Sokka seemed so much _nicer_ than Jet as he held the door open and checked them in. Or, how his hand drifted up and down Zuko’s back when they were waiting for the elevator. Zuko loved it. It was good and it was easy. But it was also so fucking suffocating.

It was suffocating and fast and too good to be true.

So when the _“Only two beds between the four of us”_ question inevitably came up, Zuko thought before he spoke for the first time in a long time.

“I can share with Aang.” Based on the looks from his three travel companions in the cramped elevator, that wasn’t the answer they were expecting. Aang was confused, Sokka looked damn near insulted. But, Katara?

She looked relieved for the first time in the trip. “Okay,” She said the faintest of smiles playing on her lips as the elevator stopped on their floor. Her gaze flitted over to her brother, who had broken the skin to skin contact that Zuko didn’t expect to miss. “Don’t hog the covers, Sokka.”

“Just because those two wanna share doesn’t mean I do,” Sokka scoffed. “Whichever one of us gets to the room first, gets the bed.”

_“Don’t be a child.”_

“The other one gets the chair. Because hotel rooms _always_ have chairs. I’m a fantastic older brother. I wouldn’t make you sleep on the-”

Before he had the chance to finish the elevator doors opened and Katara rushed down the hall. Sokka followed closely behind, shouting obscenities as he went.

“How long will it take until Katara realizes Sokka has the key?” Aang asked, the two of them slipping through the doors before they slid closed.

“Better question, will Sokka remember he has the key by the time we make it?”

The answers were _roughly twenty seconds_ and _no he wouldn’t._

The room was all grays and beiges. A large window took up most of the far wall and opened up to a balcony that overlooked the lobby. Two pristine white queen sized beds sat atop teak bed frames. A small privacy divider separated the bedded area from the room’s entrance. A blown up photo of deep purple lycianthes in a gold frame hung above a desk that was a matching set with the bed frames. The infamous hotel chair was a small chaise lounge with a walnut colored cover and one decorative pillow that looked hard as a rock.

The siblings shared a look before they both went for the bed closest to the window.

They fell into a comfortable silence. Zuko had felt like most of the time they spent together was in that congenial quietness. Aang and Sokka ordered room service, claiming the luxury wouldn’t be something that they’d be able to have shortly. The fact that it was Zuko’s money they were spending probably helped them in their need to go overboard as if the three-star hotel even had the facilities to do so. Either way, they made use of it, both buying several oversized pastries and exclusively Sokka buying an actual meal. 'The actual meal' being generous when it was the descriptor of a double cheeseburger with the works, an oversized helping of fries, and chicken nuggets that were shaped like dinosaurs.

“We should set up some ground rules before we actually start driving.” Katara said after the lunch had been delivered to their room. Aang sat on their bed, scooping heaping forkfuls of coconut cake into his mouth while Sokka had already near demolished his burger and focused his energy on eating fries two at a time. He did offer a few to Zuko though, which he accepted before moving back to his spot across the room.

“Like what?” Aang asked, in between bites. “This is about having fun! We don’t really need rules.”

“See it’s that attitude that makes me think we _do_ need them,” Sokka said with an accusatory finger. “And an itinerary, because I have no fucking clue where you expect me to drive to tomorrow. All I know is driving south.”

“If we go south, we’d end up in Baja California,” Zuko added. “That’s more so for vacations then a soul changing journey.”

“I don’t see why we can’t do both.”

“In two months?” Katara asked, but there was a playful smile on her lips. Like that was a challenge she was willing to take. “So, itinerary and rules.”

“I wanna see the salt flats in Bolivia!” Sokka raised a hand as if he was waiting to be called on in class. “Just putting that out there. Oh, and Zuko wants to go to El Canelillo. _Beach, Chile, wine._ ”

“I wanna do the swing at the end of the world in Ecuador.” Katara noted.

“Okay,” Aang said with a grin and a nod. “Itinerary made. Swing, salt flats, nice beach, and I wanna go to Ushuaia. You can see Antarctica from there. And… I guess I kinda wanna see Machu Picchu but everyone always does. Also I saw this cute animal conservatory where they have baby turtle MAYBE WE COULD GET ONE and-”

"No animals in the van." Katata interrupted. "That's gotta be rule number one."

Aang's face of utter disappointment did little for Katara's set of rules. "And nothing illegal based on the local laws of where we are, okay? I'm not paying bail for any of you. And clean up after yourselves, it'll be a shared space. No sneaking off. No secrets or gossiping-"

"No secrets is a pretty random rule." Zuko interrupted. He was quickly waved off by Katara as she flopped down to sit beside Sokka who was still lounging across the well kempt bed, sucking the salt off his fingers.

"Not when you're expected to live with people," Katara shrugged and looked at Sokka. "And one more rule. _No hooking up."_

Hooking up was general. It had to be. Especially with the choruses of a "Wait hold on…" And "Why?" From all three of the boys. 

"I don't trust you guys to not make it weird for everyone." Katara said, like it explained everything. Sokka rolled over onto his front and propped himself up on his elbows.

"With **_anyone_** anyone? Or just…" He pointed from himself to Zuko and then from Aang to Katara "Our fellow _travel companions?”_

"It's not like we have to worry about _us,"_ Katara made a general motion towards herself Aang and Zuko. "I mean, Zuko has a boyfriend. Aang is just a sweet little guy. And I'm actually trying to grow as a person on this trip. So it's mostly for yo-"

They all interjected simultaneously, making an effort to speak over the other.

"We broke up yesterday. How many times do I have to say that?"

_"Sweet Little guy?"_

"Okay, hold on," Sokka was the only one to get through to his sister as her full attention returned to him. "I am a charming guy but-"

"It's so you don't get any girl pregnant or something," Katara cut him off, but there was something deadly serious under the teasing comment. "Or worse, fall in love with someone. You do that too often for your own good anyway."

The comment hung in the air and Sokka didn't try to catch it. The silence only lasted a few seconds too long, but was cut when he got up from the bed and claimed the first shower.

Zuko thought back to Katara's words. They felt directed, but he wasn't sure if they were necessarily directed at _him._

No, of course the mention of _love_ wasn't. Love wasn't even something Zuko inherently believed in. It was just a collection of happy chemicals that brains produce for those who were unlucky enough to fall for the subconscious’ need for instant satisfaction.

Zuko was one of the lucky ones. Genuine love didn't exist, at least not in any way that could be romanticized past chemical receptors.

But, Sokka? There was a piece to the puzzle of that blue eyed boy that Zuko was missing. Surely there were hundreds more that Zuko would never discover, but Sokka's relationship with love must have been a central piece. His face twisted in hurt at his sister's comment and he went silent. They hadn't known each other very long but Zuko was certain that had to have been a rare occurrence. Him retiring for the night no later than 9:30 didn't help his case either.

For Sokka love was a cornerstone and for Zuko it was merely the dust left behind. 

_Okay,_ Zuko thought as he shifted against the pillow border that separated his side of the bed from Aang's. ' _Interested' to 'bend me over the hood of the car' to 'this can never happen for both of our sakes' in under twenty-four hours. A new record._

It was too easy.

“Zuko?” Aang whispered from behind three pillows.

Zuko sighed as he turned away from the bright green clock blinking _midnight_ and Sokka's sleeping face mere feet away from him. The siblings must have switched sides the few moments Zuko was face down on his pillow. “What do you want?”

“I can’t sleep.” Aang broke the pillow barrier just enough so glassy gray eyes peaked through.

Zuko wasn't in the mood to be nice to the kid. “Well, I can.” He couldn't. He was sure Aang already knew that for the same reason Zuko already knew. Neither of them could sit still longer than a minute. That had been the case when they were bunking too. But the attempt at avoiding conversation was ignored entirely by the younger teen.

“I was just thinking about-” 

“I’m _tired,_ Aang.”

“I know but-”

“Go to sleep.”

_“Appa’s at home.”_

Zuko sighed, realizing that it would be a conversation he couldn't avoid. He turned over and removed the pillow fully. Aang's hair was staticy, sticking horizontally towards the pillow and Zuko was sure his was similar. “I'm sure Gyatso is taking care of him.”

“This is the farthest I’ve been away from him in years.” That would explain the wide glassy eyes and face warped with the edges of anxiety. Aang’s pet was everything to him. He was his lifeline after the kid had run away. Aang didn’t ask questions, but he knew what Zuko was planning. Hell, he was the only one Zuko knew who had done it before.

“How far did you get when you ran away?” He asked, voice dropping even lower than it was as one of the siblings turned in their sleep.

“I only made it to Ontario before I went back,” Aang turned over to study the ceiling. “You’re doing it smarter though. I never even thought to get rid of my phone.”

“What did you think then?”

“That I was _scared…”_ If it was lighter, Zuko was sure he would have noticed the streaks of tears down Aang’s cheeks earlier. The little bit of light the moon provided through the sliver of space between the curtains brought Aang’s tears to light. “I still _am_ scared.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because your emotional support animal is across the country and all I have are quartered Xanax tablets. But you’re a minor so-”

“It would still be illegal if I wasn’t a minor.”

“It’s not like I’m selling them. I’m just being nice. I think they’re in Sokka’s bag.”

“Why are they in Sokka’s bag?”

Zuko paused, knowing he had just buried his own grave. “They just… ended up in there.”

“You’re really bad at lying,” Aang turned back to face Zuko. He didn’t meet the younger teens eyes, but he could hear the smile in his voice. At least it was better than crying. “Sokka’s really nice, you know.”

“I’ve noticed.” Sokka was deep asleep, but his subconscious must have caught his name as he mumbled something and turned over.

“He’s nicer than Jet.” Aang continued, with a prodding finger to Zuko’s cheek. His hand was quickly swatted away.

“Jet was nicer when I first met him too.”

“I feel like we remember that differently…” Aang was right, but Zuko didn’t want to think too hard about their first meeting. “I think he likes you.”

“Yeah. Sokka and I are friends.”

_“Zuko,”_

_“We’re friends,”_ He defended, a little harsher than he meant. He sighed before speaking again, bringing his voice back down to a whisper. “Besides, didn’t Katara make that rule? No hooking up? I thought it was about me but then I saw the face you made.”

“It’s not like that,” Aang sat up a little, bringing a pillow he had clutched to his chest with him. “I just… I just _really like her._ I think she’s really pretty and funny and smart.”

“Is that all you wanted to say?”

“Yeah… I just like her.” Zuko sighed and rolled out of bed, taking the spare blanket he had wrapped around his shoulders with him. “Where are you-”

“Neither of us are gonna sleep and the pool is open 24/7.”

Through the dark, Aang’s smile widened. “Are we having a pool party?”

 _If it means I don’t need to spend another minute dealing with both of our downward spirals?_ “Sure… a pool party.”

**_-_**

Even with the sun no longer lightning up the sky, it was hot. The concrete burned underneath his feet and through the shorts he had changed into. Zuko pulled his hair up into as much of a bun as he could manage to get the warmth off his neck. He had only been out there for a few minutes but sweat was already starting to bead on his neck and forehead. He kicked his legs under the cool water of the deep end and watched as Katara and Aang raced each other across the length. Of course Katara had woken up the moment the two of them had unlocked the door of their room, but Sokka remained dead to the world. Mouth open and drooling on his accumulated three pillows and arm hanging off the side.

It was fine, Zuko needed some time by himself anyway. As alone as he could get with one sugar high hyperactive sixteen year old and a motherly almost seventeen year old who was the not-girlfriend of the younger teen.

The outdoor pool deck had black and beige lawn chairs stacked up and lined along the wall. The one other person out with them that late was a younger girl in a pair of green plaid high waisted shorts with a black belt and a blouse tucked in with long shiny black hair kept out of her face with a thick headband. She stood near the small cabana made out of what looked to be a faux sandstone that was shoved into the corner as fake palm trees towered above it all sprouting fluorescents instead of coconuts. Instead of the Hollywood Hills in the distance there were more fake plants and the parking lot. If he squinted he could almost see the lights of an In-and-Out and a Ross in the distance.

The true California experience.

Last time he had been there the view had been similarly disappointing. But, instead of a hotel he was held up in a surprisingly nice home in Glendale with Jet, Aang, and Jet’s group of so-called freedom fighters. Ozai had traveled there too, but stayed a city over with Azula and the rest of his team. He had a meeting at some government building downtown that Jet had insisted counter protesting at. The Glendale residence was just the luck of the draw because the adults who lived there loved Zuko’s father. Their yard sported signs spouting his campaign phrase and Zuko had distinct memories of their faces at fundraisers before his presence at them were less requested. They were hiding in plain sight.

Their daughter, on the other hand, was more interested in how Jet knew the plumbing that ran under the roads and how much pressure one would need to blow it up. She knew the city by heart, so Jet took a liking to her too. Her rage was well placed for the things her parents made her do. She was a kindred spirit towards Aang and she made Zuko’s wild child sensibilities look like a kid who grabbed two candies from a bowl instead of one. Back then she kept her hair in space buns barely held in place by overworn elastics and her bangs almost reached the bridge of her nose. She exclusively wore oversized basketball shirts, loose fitting t-shirts, and always had her dog Badger by her side.

Which is why it took Zuko seeing her cloudy eyes to even recognize her.

Aang recognized her the same moment Zuko did. Before he could greet her properly, Aang had clambered his way out of the pool and yelled as loud as he could. “TOPH!!!”

Recognition flashed across her face and a smile that could rival Aang’s spread across her face. She stepped out from the side of the cabana and opened her arms wide, knowing full well Aang would make it to her.

“I _thought_ it was you, Twinkletoes!” They squeezed each other as hard as they could manage, or at least as hard as Aang could tolerate. If given the ability, Toph would have managed to fracture a rib. They talked back and forth at breakneck speeds, each going above the other to try and catch up with the last several months of separation.

Zuko felt the water shift around him and turned to see Katara swimming towards the edge of the pool just as Toph wrapped herself around Aang’s arm.

As they approached the water, Aang describing how close they were to it's edge, Zuko spoke up. “I’ve never seen you look so clean cut, Toph.”

“I’ve never seen you at all, Zuko.” She pointed in his general direction but her smile didn’t fade. “I know you're going through some shit so I’ll let you choose. Punch or hug? Just so you know you’ll never get the chance again.”

“I’m honored you’ve even given me the choice.” Zuko admitted, surprised at his own honesty. “Can I rain check?”

Toph’s smile turned wicked. “Fine by me,” She pulled her grip away from Aang and shoved him straight armed into the pool with a loud splash. “That just means Aang gets both.”

“What the hell was that?” Katara balked as Aang made his way back to the surface with only minimal chlorine straight through the nose and to the brain. She saw how he laughed and her rage dissipated just slightly. Her eyes were still trained on the visitor as she held onto Zuko’s arm and sat down beside him, kicking her bare feet into the water with much more intensity than Zuko’s own fanning, doubling his pace.

“It’s how I show affection.” Toph snickered and pulled Zuko in tighter as if to have an addendum of _‘sometimes.'_

“Do me a favor and don’t push me in?” Zuko asked, bumping shoulders with Toph.

“As long as you don’t bum rush the blind girl, you should be fine.” Her attention stayed straight ahead but her expression changed into something calmer and pleasant. “What the fuck are you guys doing here anyway?”

“We should ask you the same thing,” Aang said once he got his bearings again and treaded water near them. “And where’s Badger?”

Toph rolled her eyes, but when she spoke it came off more sad then the frustration in her muscles read. “Good ‘ol Poppy had a change of heart. Apparently he gave me too much leeway in my measly little existence. And my parents were at a conference at the hotel down the street. They’re booze was under lock and key, so I came here. The cabana hasn’t failed me before, but Malibu isn’t worth it.”

“Your mom got rid of your seeing eye dog because he…” Zuko paused, trying to see if he was even understanding it right. “Did his job?”

Toph nodded. “It’s bullshit, but it’s my family. Now, don’t dodge my question. I know Aang’s got a spiritual journey and a cool van. The last time I heard from you, you sent me a request to play twenty questions and then like two days later I find out you're hospitalized in a fucking finsta post. And I don’t know who the _girl_ is but-”

“The girl is Katara.” She spit back. “And we’re all going with Aang on his _spiritual journey._ Our goal is Ushuaia. The southernmost part of South America.”

“Just you three?”

“No, there’s one more,” Zuko started. “Sokka, Katara’s brother. He’s coming with us. He’s out cold in our room, though.”

Toph’s eyebrows knit together. “What about Jet?”

_“What about him?”_

“Your heart started racing, Sparky.”

Zuko began to say something, but whatever he had planned to defend his honor was overtaken by the haunting sound of flip flops speeding down concrete and a shout only silenced by the man who made it hit the water with a splash.

Impressively, he managed to get the flip flops off in his mad dash to the pool. More impressively, was when he broke the tension of the water with a laugh and a string of accusatory cusses from his sister. Droplets ran down the curve of his neck and onto his shoulders. His hair was stringy as he carded his hand through it and pushed it out of his face. The fluorescents didn’t even diminish the way the moon managed to reflect off of tan skin like it was always meant to be.

“Describe the dream boat before you go into cardiac arrest or something.” Zuko couldn’t even argue. His heart was beating so hard he could hear his blood pumping in his ears. 

“Blue eyes, tan skin, undercut, dark brown hair, he’s wearing navy bathing suit trunks that are riding pretty low on his hips,” Zuko hummed and tilted his head to the side, watching how Sokka’s back muscles flexed underwater. “Strong arms, a jawline that looks like the gods took their time with it.”

“I’m gonna stop you before you faint or something, I get the picture. I will warn you though,” Toph reached up and pressed the back of her hand to his right cheek. “You’re probably blushing.”

“I’m not blushing, it’s hot outside.” Zuko sighed, straightening his posture. “It wouldn’t work out for us anyway.”

“Why?” Toph argued. “Because you're still with Jet and Snoozles over there is dating someone else? Or worse, isn’t even into guys?”

“Sokka’s queer… Bi, I think,” Zuko defended. “We just wouldn’t work out. He’s too-”

“Out of your league?”

“Good for me…” He quickly backpedaled. “Wait, what do you mean out of my league?”

 _“I don’t know,”_ Toph shrugged. “You made him sound pretty hot, Sparky.”

“Where’d that nickname come from?” Sokka asked as he swam towards them and leaned forward onto the solid ground. He was heaving in breaths thanks to his time underwater and his eyes sparkled with the reflected dappled light from the pool. 

“Well,” Toph laughed, stifling her own giggles as Zuko was certain his heart beat must have picked up again. “You know what they say. You commit arson one time-”

“Toph!” He yelped with a sharp elbow to her side. She only laughed harder.

“Fine okay, okay! I’m just saying you missed out on badass Zuko.”

Sokka hummed in thought, his gaze turned down at the concrete and a tongue sweeping over his bottom lip. He moved his arm just enough so that instead of an elbow, it was the better half of his forearm pressed against Zuko’s thigh. “Apparently.”

“You didn’t miss out on anything.” Aang added from behind them. “He was mean back then.”

_“I’m mean now.”_

“No. You’re nice. Nobody thinks so, but you’re nice.”

Zuko fought the smile that almost broke through when Aang’s words finally connected. “I don’t know if that’s a compliment.”

“I don’t know if it’s true.” Katara emphasized. 

“Well, I don’t know about you guys-” Toph intervened with a jump to her feet and an overplayed stretch over her head, her spine cracking for emphasis, “But, _I could eat_. Might as well now that the gang’s all here. There’s a 24 hour Thai place close by. I can tell you more embarrassing stories when food’s involved. Shall we?”

Toph guided them to the bus stop with her cane in hand, telling stories that even Zuko forgot he was a part of. Nothing extremely embarrassing, something that Zuko was abundantly thankful for. Especially with her storytelling flourishes that Sokka had a proclivity to as he came in with his own set of stories only to be stopped and corrected by Katara every few sentences.

They stumble upon the Thai place, a small hole in the wall with exposed brick and an oversized neon sign that washed the storefront in blues and teals. The cool air and spicy scents welcomed them as they pulled two tables together in the far corner so they could sit together. Toph settled herself at the head of the table and Aang quickly found himself right beside Katara. There was no choice left but to sit between Sokka and Toph. Which would have been fine if Toph couldn’t read him like an open book and had the ability to not tease him relentlessly anytime Sokka so much as laughed. There was no problem in the girl being on his left side, it was mutual territory. He couldn’t see her, she couldn’t see him, and she was loud enough to be heard across a six lane highway without trying so he wouldn’t need to strain.

Which still landed on the problem of Sokka pressed up against his right. The metal chairs were pushed closer than they had any right to be due to metal legs taking up too much space below for Sokka’s lengthy limbs to fit comfortably. Then when the server came by and asked for their drink order, Sokka just had to wrap his arm around Zuko’s shoulder and lean across him to be heard under the thumping top 100s. With the neons his skin showed bright blue and the contours of his face were a deep indigo. The beginnings of stubble on his chin reflected purple and when he sang along with Taylor Swift’s belt Zuko’s chest tightened.

He didn’t come back to reality until the waiter asked what he wanted for a drink again. Maybe it was the third time. Maybe he made his way around the table for food orders and put the requests for the drinks in already.

Maybe Sokka’s hand playing with the small frays of Zuko’s shorts in between dexterous fingers on his upper thigh short circuited something deep in his brain.

Zuko decided on water and pad prik as spicy as they would allow. The pleasant burn was good enough to distract him from cold fingers tapping a nonsensical rhythm on his upper thigh.

The drinks came around a few seconds later. The sweet scents of various boba teas mingled with the spices in the kitchen. Toph’s medium honeydew looked a neon green in the light while Aang and Katara’s matching thai teas changed from a warm orange to a more palatable and acceptable color for a drink in a dark brown.

There was little saving grace in Sokka’s bright beverage which only was accented with the lights and crystal clear tapioca pearls settled at the bottom. Sokka must have felt Zuko’s eyes on him. He turned his head to meet Zuko’s gaze and took a long chug from his straw, multiple orbs shooting up into the plastic.

“Dude,” He started. “Your eyes look amazing in here.”

“Yours too,” Sokka’s hand caressed down onto Zuko’s knee and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Surprisingly enough, words started to come a little easier. “I mean blue, it’s obviously pretty complementary to… blue”

_Spoke too soon._

Sokka broke out into a crooked smile. “Yours still look gold just… just a bluer gold.”

“Do you mean green?”

“I stand by bluer gold.”

“Get a room!” Toph called from her end of the table and the other two erupted in laughter. Zuko was still a little too caught on bluer gold and a roaming hand.

“I-Uh… the lights didn’t do your drink any favors. It looks...” Zuko hesitated, trying to find a word as Sokka went back to practically inhaling the drink. “Inedible.”

_“It’s taro.”_

“I know that,” Zuko blurted. “I don’t know, I just don’t fuck with milk teas and boba.” 

Toph groaned with an exaggerated eye roll “Dude, _you’re asian.”_

“I can’t stand the texture,” Zuko defended. “You shouldn’t chew a drink. Especially tea. There’s a sanctity in it.”

“When was the last time you tried it?” Sokka asked.

Zuko shrugged as he attempted to remember his approximate age. “Probably when Uncle opened his tea shop so...Ten years ago.”

Sokka held his drink up to Zuko’s lips with his free hand. “At least try mine.”

“Sokka, I mean it. I...I can’t do textures.” Zuko made the initial attempt to rid his knee and thigh of Sokka’s attention only to lock their fingers together. He almost pulled away but the blues felt a little brighter when Sokka’s ring finger coasted it’s way over his heart line and down to his pulse point.

“Then try the rest of it.”

“You can’t just-”

Sokka pulled the straw a little higher in the cup with his teeth, out of bubble range, and offered it back to Zuko. All the while Sokka was tracing the purple veins up and down Zuko’s forearm while Zuko busied his hand by gathering and releasing fistfuls of polyester and jersey near the other man’s inner thigh. He relented and took a sip. He could feel his body tense at the flavor. Both of their hands stilled underneath the table.

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s really _sweet.”_

“Yeah, I know. That’s why it’s fantastic!”

“I’ll leave the sweet potato tea to you, buddy.”

The conversation steered into something that Zuko couldn’t quite focus on when Sokka gave up on torturing him and was content with the simple act of intertwined hands. The moment felt too good to be true, much like every moment he had Sokka pressed so closely to him. If he let go, Sokka would stop. The game would be over. His heart rate would return to normal and the guilt clawing at his brain wouldn’t be prominent.

_I used to have nightmares about him as a kid._

_I mean it’s just the eyes._

Ozai would always manage to ruin everything for him no matter what. No matter how far away Zuko went.

But how fucking _pissed_ would he be if he saw his son happy? It didn’t need to be genuine, he didn’t even want his father to ever see him again. However, if spite was going to be Zuko’s only reason for minor pleasures, then so be it.

He didn’t let go of Sokka’s hand. It didn’t do anything for the guilt. He’d have to apologize later. He didn’t know to who.

The food was delivered and the only thing that snapped Zuko out of his stupor was a tan hand reaching for his plate.

“Oh, you’re not gonna want to-” Sokka stopped him with a wave.

“Oh ye of little faith, Z.” Almost immediately after his first bite, Sokka started choking on the heat. Zuko’s hand flew to his back, abandoning their charade under the table to rub comforting circles. He was certain his laughter canceled out the comfort though.

“That’s not food that’s _capital punishment.”_

“I tried to warn you.”

“Let me try! I’ll be the judge.” Toph stuck her fork out in Zuko’s general direction. He relented and stuck a piece with the prongs before handing it back. She stuck the fork into her mouth with an appreciative hum and thoughtful nod. “It’s spicy but it’s not that bad.”

“It’s not spicy,” Zuko defended.

“I don’t defend lightly, Sparky. It’s spicy, let Snoozles have this.”

“See!” Sokka said between coughs.

“But it’s not _that_ bad.”

“It’s not my fault you have the constitution of a graham cracker.”

Sokka pouted, his lip quivering and his eyes wide. “I do not!”

“My apologies,” Zuko mocked, putting a hand over his heart in fake sincerity. “Graham crackers have cinnamon in them. You’re more along the lines of an unsalted saltine.”

Twenty minutes into dinner and Sokka had called out every single song that played from the old stereos adorning the corners of the walls within the first few beats. Zuko and Katara played along between bites of pad prik and green curry respectively but they were no match for Sokka’s overwhelming encyclopedia of shitty music stored away in the back of his mind. Instead of feeding into Sokka’s ego, Zuko went for the teasing route.

“All of that knowledge and you're not going into music?” Zuko teased with a gentle nudge at Sokka’s shoulder, their hands naturally finding each other again.

“No, I can’t play anything and I can’t sing for shit.” Sokka admitted. “I thought about music production but there was a _weird_ amount of math in that.”

“Says the guy going into engineering.” Katara tattled.

“Okay, but the math is different. If you fuck up something in music math you get a shitty chord or something. Mechanical engineering has higher stakes. And more money. Besides, I use my over abundance of music knowledge for better things,” Katara’s groan and Aang’s excited gasp only made Zuko more interested in whatever nonsense Sokka would bestow upon them. He was beginning to find comfort in it. “I can find out what someone’s stripper song would be after they tell me what their guilty pleasure band is.”

Zuko couldn’t help the surprised laughter that bubbled up. Sokka looked like he took pride in the fact that the laughter was his doing. “I expected something more impressive”

“Okay, Z,” Sokka challenged, leaning just that much closer into their already shared space. "What's yours?"

_He’s too close._

_You can’t trust him._

_He’s too good for you._

“I…” Zuko started, forcing the doubt away. “I don’t have one.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Mine’s Doja Cat!” Toph added with a mouthful of fried rice.

“Your song is Rules. Easy,” Sokka’s smile lit up his face like it always did. “But I doubt that’s your guilty pleasure. Everyone sorta likes Doja cat.”

“I don’t.” Zuko interjected. 

“It’s because you really like emo shit and grunge rock. I wouldn’t be surprised if screamo was in there somewhere.”

“Why’s that?”

“Your alarm was _Offspring…”_

“Fuck, I’m never going to live that down,” Zuko groaned, dropping his head into the crook of Sokka’s neck. He meant for it to be a teasing shove, but he stayed and breathed in the chlorine clinging to the other’s skin a moment longer than could pass off as normal. When he pulled back up their eyes locked in a moment of electricity. 

_Or worse, fall in love with somebody._

Maybe Katara actually was directing that at him

Sokka broke the silence, a crooked smile playing at his lips. The closer they were to each other the softer and faster he spoke.“You’re really hard to read sometimes, buddy.”

Zuko matched his intensity. “Thank you, it’s purposeful.”

“Just you wait, I can find your stripper song.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Give me a day and we’ll have your answer.”

“What’s yours?”

“I’m classy,” Sokka pulled away, and let his voice overtake the small restaurant again with a gregarious laugh. “Obviously it’s Partition by Queen B herself. Not because I’m guilty of her, but because I feel like I could pull it off.” 

It takes more conversational gymnastics, a chugged taro boba tea, and what would probably grow into two missing rich kid cases but at the time was nothing more than the agreement of an additional passenger to their road trip, to get back onto the topic of embarrassing stories. Zuko was surprised how comfortable he felt with the group of teens and how easily he fit in with them.

_It was too easy._

No, he was trying. He was really trying. Even as the nerves crawled up into his throat and his hands shook. He was trying.

_They’re too good for you._

That was bullshit he was fed for years. He could get over it. He could-

_Sokka’s staring at the burn._

Zuko reached blindly towards his hair and snapped the rubber band as efficiently as he could. His hair fell back down over his eyes and he rested his head on his folded arms on the table. When Sokka reached to push his shaggy bangs out of the way, something he had done plenty of times before, Zuko turned away. Sokka seemed to have gotten the picture, and instead went back to nonsensical lines traced around Zuko’s shoulder blades.

_You ruined it._

_You can’t have anything good._

_Just say something._

_They’re talking about you._

Zuko lifted his head just enough to catch the tale end of Toph saying“-icture of Zuko getting arrested once and he has that stupid mask on. He was so much cooler back then.”

“No offence,” Katara interrupted from her side of the table with Aang blowing bubbles into his unfinished drink beside her. “But how would you… _know that.”_

“He started captioning his instagram posts for me,” Toph gloated. “Especially the ones of him doing crazy shit.”

Aang nodded, finally pulling off from the straw. “I’m pretty sure I took that picture.”

“Where were we?” Sokka asked, instead of waiting for an answer, he leaned his head onto the cold steel of the table right in Zuko’s space. He spoke in a hushed tone, “You okay, baby?”

 _“Mmhm.”_ Zuko hummed, more of a mumbled acknowledgment than a genuine answer. He tried again. “ ‘m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Just tired.”

“We can head back.”

“Don’t wanna ruin it. Give me a second.”

“Nunavut, I think…” Aang said after a moment. Their little correspondence probably didn’t even last more than three seconds. Sokka sat back up and turned his attention towards Aang. “You went to Canada for Katara’s birthday that year. It was around then.”

“So you had a crazy life outside of us too, huh?” Katara said with a teasing elbow in Aang’s direction.

A blush spread across his cheeks before he responded. “It was only ever crazy when Jet would come.”

_“Wait, Jet was his-”_

“And by extension, _Zuko.”_ Toph quickly added over Katara’s realization with a wave in his general direction.

“It would be great if we stopped talking about my ex-boyfriend.”

_You look like a victim._

“C’mon, Sparky. Tell ‘em about the time you guys-”

_You could have defended yourself._

“Oh yeah, and he helped us find Appa after-”

_You should have fought back._

“He’s my ex too.”

 _“WHY THE FUCK DO WE KEEP TALKING ABOUT HIM?”_ Zuko hit his hands so hard against the icy metal that his palms stung. The edge dug into his skin and he felt like he was about to explode or run away or both. He forced a shaky breath into his lungs but it did little more than fan the fire. Zuko took a risk in looking over at Sokka only to be met with fear.

“Sorry…Sorry I...sorry," He said through gritted teeth. "Uh...yeah. I was apprehended. Not...not arrested. There’s a difference.”

It was quiet for a moment too long before Toph spoke up, forcing levity into a space that didn’t deserve it. “Whatever, he was still pretty cool.”

“He wasn’t cool,” Aang defended. “He was violent and-”

“And an anarchist,” Toph intervened as she stood up from her seat. Aang and Katara followed her lead, the receipt having already been whisked away. “I know your _vibes_ never quite meshed and all, but there’s no reason to take it out on him. You gotta give it to the guy, he got shit done.”

“Toph.” Zuko warned, but didn’t get much past that out before she held her hands up in defense.

“Okay, _now_ we can drop it.”

“You guys head out, Zuko and I will catch up.” Sokka cast a glance over his shoulder.

“Sure,” Katara spoke up. He could feel her eyes on his spine like a brisk wind. “Yeah, the van’s ready for pickup, just so you guys know. We’ll head over there and-”

“We won’t be that long,” Zuko matched Sokka’s posture. Katara looked sympathetic. Of course she would, she _got_ it. She was just smart enough to leave sooner. “We’ll meet you at the bus stop.”

“We can go grab our things from the hotel and head out as soon as we get Appa the Second,” Aang stepped closer and offered a comforting hand to his shoulder. _“I love you, Zuko.”_

_“No.”_

“You gotta say it back.”

“Leave me alone, Aang.” 

Aang relented, taking a few steps backwards out of the restaurant before turning back around. “You’re stronger than you think.”

“Not strong,” Zuko croaked. “Just lucky.”

Zuko was one of the lucky ones. That’s all he was. Sometimes it was good when being lucky meant Sokka continuing an invisible masterpiece between his shoulder blades and down his back, circling every individual vertebrae in figure eights.

Other times it was simply surviving.

Fleeing wasn't the same as running away.

“Hey.” Sokka broke the silence after an indistinguishable amount of time. Something between two seconds and two millenia.

“Hello.” Zuko’s voice didn’t sound like his own, he couldn’t believe he was being so weak so openly.

“Can we talk?”

“Are we not talking right now?”

Sokka sighed and dug into his pocket before pulling out tangled earbuds. “I feel like you're not telling me something.”

“I’m not telling you a lot of things.” Automatically, Zuko began to unknot them. Putting all the built up emotions into cheaply made wires. 

“Dude, just talk to me,” Sokka said, picking out a playlist. He landed on one with a small picture of Aang’s van that was simply titled _‘Uncomfortable’_ “Katara made the rule, _no secrets.”_

“I’m sure that was more along the lines about shit that will disturb the peace.”

“Consider my peace disturbed, buddy.” Sokka closed the last few inches of space between them and plugged the half untangled earphones into his phone.

They shared them like they had earlier. A song with gentle guitars and an organ like keyboard flowed through.

_True care_

_What does that even mean?_

_I needed true care_

_When I was 17_

“Sorry. I just hate it when it’s quiet...” Sokka admitted after a moment. “I need to know you’re okay.”

“You keep saying need-”

“Yeah, I do don’t I?” Sokka agreed. The song continued in between their silence. The man’s melancholy falsetto floated overtop the synth melody and barely present percussion.

“If you keep being nice to me,” Zuko began, turning his gaze towards the other again. “I’ll start to think you actually like me.”

“Well, neither of us would want that.”

“No, we wouldn’t.”

It was quiet again.

The two of them spent more time in silence then they had any right too.

But it was easy.

And Sokka cradling Zuko’s hand in his own before bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss into Zuko’s open palm felt easier.

“What was that?”

Zuko felt teeth against his hand with Sokka's wide smile. Even when hidden he was unabashed in his happiness. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“On you. Don’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” He quirked an eyebrow. “Well, unless you _want_ me to.”

“Sokka-”

“I mean it,” His demeanor shifted and his breath was warm against Zuko’s hand. He kissed again. “I’ll ease up if you want me to.”

“No you won’t.”

“Yeah I wi-”

“People rarely do the things I want them to,” Zuko meant for the admission to be argued, but it was barely above a whisper. “Can I have my hand back?”

Another smile and another kiss, that one along the inner part of his wrist. “Never.”

“You just proved my point,” Sokka dropped Zuko’s hand underneath his chin, using it to tilt his chin up. “We should probably stick to being friends.”

Despite everything, Sokka nodded in understanding. “Is this what friends do?”

“It can be…” Zuko pulled his hand back to him, tugging Sokka’s along with it. When he was close enough, he pressed a chaste kiss to the top of Sokka’s hand. The veins rolled underneath his lips and golden eyes locked with blue.

Neither of them could handle much more than that anyway.

“Ready for a life changing field trip, baby?”

“Too late to back out now, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song at the end is True Care by James Vincent McMorrow and yes Sokka made a playlist for Zuko that i will share the link to when the next chapter is posted because that's when we see it in full effect :)


	5. In your kingdom by the sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’s so hot,” Sokka turned to face Katara fully. “In like, a could totally beat me up and I’d let him, sort of way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, minor tw for description of injuries and the vaguest possible description of violence.

He didn’t know anything about Zuko.

Sokka liked to think he could figure people out quickly. In the few hours he had known Toph, he figured out she had shitty parents that treated her like she was nothing more than her disability. Which made her quick decision on coming along with them a lot more understanding. It was a bad idea because anyone else would think they just _kidnapped her_ , but he got it. Aang was an open book, not that Sokka had intended to dig deep. The kid talked about how he was excited Gyatso had allowed him to find himself away from the foster home. _Apparently_ , some secret shit had gone down there too. Some secret shit that justified how their windows were triple-locked and how no one could get to the back of the house from the front door. And Katara was his sister, so she didn’t count. Not really. Not with how she whispered harshly at him when she learned that Jet had been Zuko’s ex like it was Sokka’s fault for not telling her. Like he hadn’t learned it the day before by sheer luck brought on by Zuko’s loose and easy speech.

Which, in itself, was the problem in the first place.

Anything that Sokka found out about Zuko had been purposeful. Strategic even. Of course Sokka would seek out answers. Anyone in their right mind would want to know what was up with the really cute guy with the golden eyes and a laugh like a hymn. He didn’t mean to find out about Jet and trigger a panic attack. He didn’t mean to piece together the scar’s origin by accidentally listening in on discussions of Zuko’s case or his own track record with Ozai.

He learned about Zuko’s anxiety meds because he took them in an airplane bathroom. He learned that Zuko had a shitty track record with men, and that he started drinking young, and that he knew how to smoke cigars, and that his mother was an actress.

But that didn’t mean he _knew_ him.

He knew Toph liked wrestling because she made sure her suggestion of seeing Lucha Libre was a part of their minimalist itinerary. He knew Aang liked animals because they drove past a pet store that was closed for the night on the way to gather groceries for the trip and he nearly talked all of them into stealing an iguana. He knew Katara was being a stickler of rules for the first time in a long time because she wanted Aang’s trip to be _perfect._

Sokka knew his sister. He knew if she had it her way she would have already stopped to smell the roses or commit minor acts of ecoterrorism. Katara took the reins as ‘Mom Friend’ and already hated her decision because most of her wanderings around a near-empty grocery store were spent figuring out the best driving cycle and seating chart without having to sit next to Zuko. Because she didn’t know anything about him _either._ Other than the fact that his father was a monster and they dated the same guy at the same time.

So, maybe Sokka _did_ know things about Zuko. He knew that Zuko’s an Aries. Sokka didn’t know if that was a good thing but Zuko had said it was. He knew that the stars or moon or the alignments of the sky they were born under insisted that they loved the same way. He knew that Zuko had lied about disliking blueberry pancakes because the older teen spent five minutes deciding between blueberry pancake batter and unfrosted blueberry pop tarts. He knew Zuko liked tea for a similar reason. Sokka felt domestic seeing the way Zuko strolled down the tea and coffee aisle with a shopping basket on his arm debating the difference between loose leaf and pre-bagged tea. He knew that Zuko liked being called _Baby._

That was about it.

Maybe it was more than the average person knew about him. Maybe most saw him simply as _Ozai’s son._ Sokka was probably just overthinking because Toph talked about Zuko like he was a completely different person no more than a year ago. A year ago, Sokka had been with Yue. A year ago, Zuko had been with Jet. He didn’t feel like he had changed much in that time. Hell, he was finally beginning to feel like himself again.

Sure, _different times. Different people. Different life._

When Toph and Zuko met, he had a track record of being a _bad_ _boy._ Sokka’s disappointed he missed it because the way she described him had no right to sound as _hot_ as it did. Or, even worse, Sokka just wished it wasn’t Jet that Zuko was in love with then. It’s not that he wanted to erase his time, albeit short, with Yue. He wouldn’t do it for the world. But that didn’t change the fact that Jet was an asshole to Katara, and probably to Zuko too.

He could be projecting all of it. He could _want_ Zuko’s scar to be his father’s doing. He could _want_ Jet to be a shitty person.

Sokka knew he was at least one for two because there was no way Ozai was a good person let alone a good _father._ Not with those tracking screenshots. Maybe one and a half for two because Jet was a known asshole. _Everyone hated Jet._ But, he did good shit for their community. And apparently helped Aang find his dog at one point.

Monsters didn’t do that sort of thing.

Sokka sighed to himself, scrubbing a hand over his face. He shouldn’t have agreed to be the first driver. He always got way too introspective at night. He’d blame Yue and her insistence on sneaking out and shooting the breeze on the rooftop of her family home, but he’d never blame her for anything. Not even dying.

Sokka had been in the Walmart parking lot for fifteen minutes and he got tired of jiggling the aux cord so it would work without crackling. It wasn’t like hearing Nobody by Mitski in the dead of night thousands of miles from home (whether it be Alaska or New York or Nunavut. None felt like home but all of them were his closest understanding of it) was the best decision anyway.

After an hour of wandering around Walmart and _allegedly_ dropping too much money per purchase, he got banished back to Appa the Second. Sent away for crimes of passion. And hunger. And insisting that he _absolutely_ needed that canvas and fake leather satchel with the wave detailing along the seams.

 _And_ not being able to keep a straight face when Katara had to force Toph to buy clothes and underwear because she was ready to skip town without a second thought. _Maybe_ laughing so hard that his ribs hurt when Toph made Zuko pick out sports bras for her because she trusted his judgment on her size and his eyesight more than Katara’s. That didn’t help his case either.

Wait, that was one thing Sokka learned about Zuko without pushing for more.

Zuko was blind in one eye. The left one. The _burnt_ one.

Sokka had stopped laughing and Toph insisted that Zuko’s taste was still better. He knew her well enough to pick one out without it being weird. Because it apparently would have been weird if Aang did it.

 _For obvious reasons,_ Katara was in the van with him.

That left Aang, Zuko, and the newcomer alone together. Just like their alleged good old days.

“I think I figured it out,” Katara broke the momentary silence. She stood up with a practiced grace that developed from spending hours painting the cabinets and bumping her head on the ceiling more times than anyone would admit. “Driving order is you, Zuko, Aang, me.”

“And shotgun order?”

“Zuko, Toph, me, you,” She shoved a crinkled piece of notebook paper in his line of vision. “Don’t say I’ve never done anything for you.”

“Wow, Kat. I’m impressed,” Sokka mulled over the various combinations and orders of all their names before finding the right one which was circled in a glittery periwinkle. “Maybe women _do_ have brains.”

Sokka knew he deserved the shoulder check into the driver side window but the converse to the elbow felt a little over the top. “Watch it! I’m precious cargo!”

Katara finished her scramble into the passenger seat with an _oof._ She folded her legs underneath herself only to then think better of her comfort and settle on crossing her ankles over the dash. _“Suki would have killed you for that.”_

“No, _you_ would have killed me. I'm surprised you didn't,” Sokka corrected. “Suki would _eviscerate_ me.”

“It’s what you deserve,” Katara looked over at him, her still damp braid left marks on the seat. “Don’t dodge my genius. Look, you get to sit by your stupid crush.”

“I don’t have a crush on Zuko,” _I’m only half in love with him, Katara. There’s a difference._ He thought better on saying that.

“Right,” Katara mocked. “Because you fawn over someone and follow them like a lost puppy platonically.”

 _God,_ Sokka thought, t _hat’s all she noticed and it’s already that obvious?_ He drew his left leg up to his chest, his knee pressing against the steering wheel. “I mean, both of us are following a bald monk around the world.” He looked over to see a blush rising on his little sister’s cheeks. “Aang’s a sweetheart, but _I_ sure as hell don’t like the kid like _that._ He's a cutie but absolutely not my ty-”

“If I let you rant about Zuko without interrupting for thirty seconds will you stop talking about Aang?” Katara bartered, holding her arm out across her chest, her hand a little too close to his face.

Every single big brother instinct told him to either A. Lick her hand (something that would be gross because he had no idea what she had touched but also she was too close to punching him in the face so maybe not the best idea) or B. Swat her hand away (but he _really_ wanted to talk about Zuko. Maybe she’d knock some sense into him before he would call Suki to rant about the _boy_ again.) 

He reached out and shook her hand. _“Deal.”_

“Okay,” Katara dug through her sweatpants back pockets and pulled out her phone before opening the timer. “Thirty seconds starting… _now.”_

“He’s so _hot,”_ Sokka turned to face Katara fully. “In like, _could totally beat me up and I’d let him,_ sort of way.”

“Haven’t all your crushes been-” Katara interrupted, but Sokka waved her off before she got much farther. She was right, and he didn’t want to unpack what that meant.

“Shut up, I only have twenty-five seconds,” He knew he would have to deal with the shocked insulted look Katara had on her face later. “His legs are fucking fantastic and his laugh is amazing. And, he’s a great guy so why the _fuck_ did he date Jet for so long? I know Zuko likes me back, but he said he just wanted to be friends so I’m kinda freaking out. What do I do if he’s still not over Jet? If assholes are his type, I can’t compete because I _actually_ want him to know what being cared for feels like. But, I want it to be _me who cares for him.”_

“Ten seconds.”

“And I feel like I’m missing out on this huge part of his life,” Sokka could feel himself deflate. Maybe talking about it was making it worse. “I mean his dad is still _Ozai._ Every time I think about him my brain just keeps going to how that’s the son of the guy who _… Fuck..._ What makes things worse is that he’s just… _so much like Yue.”_

Katara looked up from her phone, a blank expression on her face. “You’re done?” Sokka nodded. “You still had three seconds.”

“You can rant about Aang now,” Sokka adjusted in his seat again so that he’d be facing towards the wheel. Maybe the three deserters would return and they could get the fuck out before they both bummed themselves out. “But, if you get sappy or whatever I’m cutting you o-”

“How can you say Zuko is anything like Yue?” Katara cut him off. She was still looking at him blankly. He wasn’t sure if the moments of anger or being met with nothing was worse. “What’s there to compare?”

Sokka hesitated, looking back and forth from his sister and the parking lot. “Both their dad’s are politicians…?”

_“That’s all?”_

“I don’t…” Sokka gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “I don’t know.”

_“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”_

_“It means that_ **_I don’t know, Katara!”_ ** He didn’t mean to shout, but at least it gaged a reaction. His sister looked at him with some mix of disbelief and frustration. “Maybe it’s because I still feel like I don’t know him. He’s just out of my league but also he’s just so… I don’t know... _I don’t know.”_

“You don’t know him, not really. Not like Yue,” Katara said, forcing herself to calm down. “Yue was like a big sister to me before she… before she -”

“You can say it, Kat,” Sokka rubbed a hand over his face. “She’s dead. I should know, I was there.”

“Before she passed,” Katara mumbled. “I just can’t fathom comparing the two. Like you said, he could have been entirely different before. I don’t believe people can just change like that. Not completely.”

“What happened to hope and second chances?” Sokka asked. “I mean you have to trust him a little. Aang vouched for him. He’s with us and will stay with us for at least two months. You know I really like him and you’re only sorta an asshole about it.”

All of Katara’s fire died down as she slumped in her seat, arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t want you to get hurt again,” She said. “I just got my brother back. If you think he’s like Yue and then he turns around-”

“I don’t think that’s what I’m worried about.” He interrupted.

“What?” Katara looked him over. “You think he’d-”

“I think I don’t know enough about him yet,” Sokka admitted. “I mean, I can’t imagine anything crazy. But, you’re right, I shouldn’t throw myself at him. He wants to be friends.”

“Right.”

Something escaped his throat that could only be described as a whine. If he was around anyone else he probably wouldn’t have let it slip. He buried his face in his hands and dropped his head against the steering wheel. Punctuating each word with another thump. “But he’s just _SO._ _FUCKING. HOT.”_

Hot was easier than admitting that he loved touching him and seeing him smile and hearing him laugh. Hot could be objective. It _was_ objective. But Zuko was awkward and blushed easily and his lips were soft on the back of Sokka’s hand and he liked blueberry pop-tarts and green teas and wine and theater and used to do ballet and was a boy scout when he was little and whose father is a monster and who apparently used to be a bad boy and dated an asshole and-

And Sokka still wanted to know more about him. He wanted to know _everything._

Zuko reminded him of home, but it didn’t feel bad anymore. It didn’t necessarily feel _good_ either.

Just a simple fact.

He didn’t even know what home was supposed to connect to. 

Maybe Mitski was really onto something with that wanting _one good honest kiss_ thing.

 _“So hot,”_ Sokka said again, barely above a whisper. He lifted his head from the steering wheel just enough to see his sister’s sympathetic look before she turned her gaze out the window. “And his eyes are pretty.”

“Speak of the devil.” Katara hummed. Sokka didn’t even register what she said before the doors were thrown open and the weight of the van dropped just a little lower to the ground.

He turned around to see Aang and Toph, holding way more bags up their arms than should be able to fit in the van. They both rushed to the mini-fridge and cabinets to stuff in their purchases away by any means necessary. 

Zuko had barely begun the process of climbing into the back, only managing to drop a few of the bags off, before Katara spoke up again. “What did you end up getting after we were banished?”

“Granola,” Aang called out. “A few different kinds of cereal, almond milk, some fruits, and veggies-”

“Did you get any real food?” Sokka interrupted, finally looking back at the scene behind him. He stopped himself from staring at Zuko to focus on Aang’s answer. Because if Sokka looked then, he wouldn't stop. He would start to map out as many details as he could make out from the maybe seven feet between them.

“I mean,” Aang started again as he took a carton out of one of the many paper bags. “We got eggs.”

_“Eggs aren’t meat.”_

“I’m guessing that's a large part of the appeal.” Zuko teased as he finally climbed in, shutting the door behind him.

“Oh, wait,” Katara grabbed the paper from Sokka and tossed it aimlessly into the open space. It fluttered close enough to Toph for her to pick it up and hand it to Aang. “We have a lineup.”

“Who’s first?” Zuko asked, but cast a glance between Katara and Sokka. 

“Sokka driving,” Katara said. “You’re shotgun.”

The corners of Zuko’s lips tugged up, but they dropped just as quickly. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Katara nodded. “You drive after him.”

“That means you’re in my seat.”

The slight fondness that Katara had for Zuko, as little as she insisted it was, shined through. She rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. A smile that was directed at Sokka more than Zuko, but it was a smile nonetheless. “I guess I am.” She unfastened her seatbelt and climbed out of the passenger seat. Instead of the clamber that everyone had been doing, Zuko got out of the van and walked around to the front seat. A smaller plastic bag in his hand that he began searching through as he sat down beside Sokka.

“What’d you end up getting?” Sokka asked, finally letting himself look at Zuko.

“Huh?” Realization crossed his face. _"Oh,_ uh… loose leaf.”

“Is that better or something?”

“Is it better?” Zuko scoffed. _“Of course it’s better._ Pre-packaged tea bags are just the dust left over from the leaves. And it’s more bitter, you don’t really get the true flavor. Some tea bags are good but not ones from here. I doubt this is going to be any good anyway but…” Zuko caught himself, realizing the conversation from behind him had stopped too. “I’ll stop...”

“No, keep going.” Sokka prompted. He wasn’t exactly interested in the topic, and he was sure he wouldn’t remember it later. But fuck, hearing Zuko talk about something as small as tea and still sound passionate about it? He’d put that on the list.

“Yeah,” Katara agreed, shooting her brother another knowing look. “I didn’t know it was that big of a difference.”

“It’s… It’s not really. It’s not a big deal,” Zuko tucked the bag underneath the dash. “It’s just, my Uncle runs a tea shop in Manhattan. Every time he calls or I visit, tea is _all_ he talks about. I picked up a few things.”

“Your uncle,” Sokka connected the dots. “He was at the airport right?”

A fond smile played at Zuko’s lips. _“Fat old guy?_ Yeah, that was him.”

 _“Hey,”_ Aang interjected. “Be nice to Iroh.”

“It’s not like he’s wrong,” Toph agreed, speaking up for the first time in a hot minute. Sokka looked back in a futile attempt to see what she could possibly be up to, only to find she was too deep in the corner between the fridge and his seat. For a blind girl, she was eerily familiar with eye lines. “He’s fat and old and he loves tea. He’s also really wise.”

“Right, but you can’t understand half the shit he says.” Zuko laughed. He cleared his throat and put on a fake accent, making his voice a little raspier to sound older. Sokka didn’t know it could even _get_ raspier.

 _Another_ thing to the list.

“You must look within yourself, to save yourself, from _your other self,_ ” He started, holding a finger to his chin in mock thoughtfulness. “Only then, will your true self, reveal itself.”

“Sounds pretty wise and all-knowing to me.” Toph added.

Zuko sighed and slouched in his chair. The teasing tone he had in his voice melted away. “When we were at the airport he told me that fleeing and running were different.”

Katara leaned back from the cabinet to look over at them. All of their duffles and Toph’s shopping bags dumped around her as she folded them carefully and tucked them into the small compartments underneath their bed to make more space. “Why?”

Zuko glanced over at Sokka and then back again. Sokka followed his eye line to see that he was looking over at Aang.

Aang only shrugged, a sympathetic look on his face before Zuko responded. “No idea,” He turned back around and distracted himself with twiddling his thumbs and cracking his knuckles. “Like I said, bullshit proverbs and tea.”

“He still seems like a really good guy.” Sokka offered with the full intention of comforting Zuko somehow. The way he held himself just seemed so incorrect. Like he was closing in. He made the motion to put a comforting hand on Zuko’s thigh but froze before he could make it.

_We’re friends._

He changed course last second and landed on Zuko’s knee. Their eyes met for a moment. The incandescent lights towering above them that illuminated the parking lot muted the gold, leaving them a warm hazel with light brown surrounding the pupil and highlights of yellow along the edges.

Zuko put his hand over Sokka’s and rubbed his thumb along the knuckles. “Yeah…” He agreed with a small smile as he pulled his hand back into his lap. “He’s the best.”

Sokka gave another pat to Zuko’s knee and pulled his hand back. That was about as platonic as he could physically manage at the moment. If he left his hand too long it would become a fixture. He would let his hands wander, familiarizing himself with the muscles underneath his fingertips.

Who was he kidding? He had done that underneath the table at a Thai Restaurant already in front of Aang, his sister, Toph, and an incredibly disinterested waiter. But he wanted to do it again and again and _again._

He busied his yearning and wandering hand with the task of music. Bread by Felix Rabito started and he’s silently thankful that another Mitski song didn’t play. “Are we still aiming for Nuevo Leon by tomorrow?” He said as the chorus picked up.

“Hell yeah we are,” Toph said, mostly toward Aang who was pulling himself up with the aid of the tabletop. “The fight’s tomorrow and I’m _not_ missing it.”

“How far away is it?” Aang asked and made his way over to lean onto the back of Zuko’s chair, peeking his head into the space between them.

“Like 23 hours if we do it straight,” Sokka pulled up the GPS on his phone. “We can do 12 hours a day with the four of us driving. We get a five-hour nap in, make it to the fight well-rested.”

“Do you have the directions?” Sokka nodded and Aang reached for the phone to scroll through their journey.

Another song started. Location by Khalid. Sokka looked over to see if Zuko was listening only to be met with his gaze turned toward his phone and his attention consumed by a twitter feed. The picture Sokka caught before Zuko quickly scrolled by it was an ad for Ozai’s campaign. He stood there proud and menacing on a red and black background.

Zuko hadn’t lied about the eyes being photoshopped. The gold looked unnatural on him. 

“We should go to Joshua Tree,” Aang decided, finally handing the phone back to Sokka. Toph’s and Zuko’s annoyed groans in response did nothing to deter the over-eager sixteen-year-old. “It would be fun.”

“No offense, Twinkle toes,” Toph said. “But some of us want to get the hell out of California _as soon as possible.”_

“It’s only a few hours away,” Aang insisted. “It’s on the way. We’re practically driving through it already.”

“Toph’s right,” Zuko said and shared a look with Aang. One similar to the earlier casted glance. Like he was saying something that Aang just _got_ with a look. “If we really try, we can make it to Nuevo Leon by tomorrow morning. We find somewhere to sleep, or we sleep here in shifts.”

“It’s his trip,” Katara spoke up from her ever-shrinking pile of belongings. “I say we do what Aang wants.”

Aang smiled at that, despite the darkness, Sokka knew the kid had a matching blush to Katara’s. “We can have a picnic and watch the sunrise!”

“I guess that does it,” Sokka said as he put the key to the ignition. Appa the Second rumbled for a concerning second before fully turning over.

“Wait there wasn’t a vote!” Toph pressed, standing up from her spot in the corner.

“Aang wants to go,” Katara said in a tone not too different to a mother telling her kids they can’t go to McDonald's. “I know thinking about others first isn’t really _something you do,_ but it’s his trip-”

“Listen, sugar queen-”

_"Sugar queen?!”_

“I know Aang,” Toph gestured in Aang’s general direction to prove her point. “He likes _fun things._ Joshua Tree isn’t fun. It’s _pretty_ and it’s _boring.”_

“I can like both!” Aang added “And it’s not boring. We can have a picnic. Eat breakfast together. It could be romantic.” He said before he had the chance to even register that was where his train of thought was headed. They all knew, but by the looks of it, he very much did not. He turned his embarrassment into something more teasing as he turned his gaze from Katara back to Zuko with raised eyebrows. Like he’s trying to save it by telepathically adding _for you guys._ _Romantic for you guys._

“Well, I’ll never say no to a picnic,” Sokka agreed. “What’ll we have?”

“We can make egg sandwiches. Or have bagels,” Katara suggested. “Sokka bought bacon.”

“Of course he did,” Aang mumbled as he went to sit back down.

“And Sparky has that fancy tea,” Toph mentioned, finally closing the fridge. Sokka caught a glint of light from it but he couldn’t quite place what she had tucked away in there if anything. “We can drink those.”

“Who’d want hot tea in the middle of the desert?” Zuko asked.

“Nobody,” Toph agreed. “That’s what ice is for.”

Zuko finally relented with an eye roll and a smile thrown Sokka’s way. He was lounging back in his seat, head tilted against the headrest. 

Sokka knew that Zuko smiled more than people realized. Or, he simply smiled more when Sokka was around.

It was wishful thinking.

And another thing that made Zuko _hot._

“Fine,” Zuko conceded. “We have some water bottles we can freeze. Boil half the water, keep the rest frozen. If we time it right, it could be ready by the time we get there.”

“Well,” Sokka draped his arm over Zuko’s chair and looked back to back out of the parking lot. Aang had gone back to sit with Katara cross-legged on the bed with a few craft supplies he pulled from the bags that had already been put away. Toph braced herself against a corner of the lofted bed and the shelving. It wasn’t a seat belt but it would work for a little. “Let’s get this Par- _tea_ started.”

Zuko was the first one to react with a groan, but Aang and Toph laugh a little. Katara just ignored it, instead focusing on pulling her laptop from its case and flipping it open. The holographic stickers shifted with the shadows and lights of the interior. _“Fuck,”_ Zuko shifted in his seat so he was fully facing Sokka. “Is that going to be a thing you do?”

“The fact that you didn’t know it was a thing already is a testament to him trying to be cool around you.” Katara quipped without so much as to look up from her laptop.

“I am cool, and puns are great.” Sokka pulled out from the parking lot with a controlled turn and looked over at Zuko when he still felt his eyes boring into him. He was still smiling, but it had warped into something more mischievous. “I’ve had to have said a pun around you before, right? It's a thing I do.”

“Maybe,” The little smile that was there dropped, leaving a weirdly intense serious glare behind. It wasn’t exactly scary, but it did send a shiver up his spine. “But I sometimes tune you out.”

“Hey,” He whined. “I’m fucking hilarious. You’re missing out on prime comedy.”

They turned again onto the main road and rolled to a stop as the light switched red. He looked up at the rearview mirror and saw Zuko’s eyes looking back. He knew it was absolutely not how the mirror was meant to be used, but seeing Zuko washed in the red light from the stoplight might as well have been worth it. The right side of his face was bathed in stark red while the scarred side was lit with warm whites and a little green from the car radio flashing the time finding it's way into the angles on his face. He hadn’t pulled his hair back into it’s earlier ponytail, and instead had it pushed back. Like he had worried his hands through his scalp one too many times that his bangs actually decided to just stay there. 

Zuko had a widow's peak and short hairs that wouldn’t obey gravity along his hairline. Zuko’s skin wasn’t perfect around the scar. The skin warped near the edges, showing signs of damage as well. Zuko's hair was shorter at the base of his skull in choppy unintentional layers.

Zuko had an undercut at some point. Long enough for the hair to grow out, not long enough for it to be even.

“Yeah,” He agreed, turning to look out to the open road. _Zuko had been staring too._ “Now that I’m thinking about it, every time I do it I feel a little guilt- _tea._ ”

And Zuko made puns. Or pun, singular.

Sokka looked back towards the mirror as the light turned green. He couldn’t see the smile in the mirror, but it reached Zuko’s eyes, making them crinkle. Sokka felt his heart beating out of his chest. Before he _really_ got the chance to appreciate the moment like it deserved, or linger in it a little longer, a horn shocked him back into reality.

_Who the hell is even on the road this late anyway?_

He stepped on the gas and they coasted for a moment longer, away from the asshole in the SUV behind them, before Zuko spoke up. 

“That’s the only pun you’ll ever get from me,” Sokka watched as the moving shadows danced over the structure of Zuko’s face. Changing how he looked every other second. “Uncle makes them all the time and I never remember the setup but I’m sure he won’t mind me stealing his punchlines.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he won’t care,” Sokka turned back to the road, forcing himself to play it cool. “He probably took _oolong_ time to come up with them.

 _“Sokka.”_ Aang Katara and Toph groaned at that pun but their disdain was nothing compared to another laugh from Zuko.

“You’re going to keep that up, huh?”

_As long as I can get a laugh out of it, yeah. As long as you keep smiling at me. As long as it makes both of us forget for a little while longer._

“I don’t get an answer?”

“Oh,” Sokka didn’t realize he hadn’t said anything yet. He wasn’t sure whether to be thankful or not that none of those slipped. “Yes.”

“Yes I won’t get an answer or yes you plan on keeping that up?”

“Just… _yes?”_

Zuko let the moment settle before tucking his legs under himself and burying his left side into the cushion of the chair. Leaving clear unscathed and relaxed skin exposed. Sokka tried not to think about that too hard.

“Wake me up when we’re there.” Zuko hummed, voice already low with the edge of wakefulness.

Sokka made it an hour before getting lost in his own head again. In his defense, the consistent arc of light that went through the back windows and made its way to the front, glinting in his side-view mirrors before disappearing only to be followed a second behind by a similar streak of light was hypnotic. That and it would have been shitty of him to start playing his loud music to keep himself in the zone. Especially when everyone was sleeping. Katara and Aang had drifted off after fifteen minutes in comparison to Zuko’s ' _as soon as they were on the freeway'_ and Toph’s ' _snores that started off as a joke when the puns began only to never stop.'_ He glanced over his shoulder to see Katara with her arms wrapped around Aang while they faced each other, her face tucked into his shoulder. Aang’s arms were sprawled out, taking up the rest of the precious space of the full bed. If it wasn’t his sister that Aang was sleeping with, Sokka would have thought it was endearing. 

Instead, all he could think of was why Katara was so adamant about the bed thing. Well, she hadn’t been the one to mention it. Zuko was. Zuko, who had sunk into his seat and had pulled his legs tighter to his chest. He checked behind himself again to see Toph laying contently with the bright red sequined body pillow that she must have swiped from the bed without anyone noticing.

A familiar stomp and clap pattern brought him back to the road ahead. Long stretching chords, a steady bass, a swinging beat. Everyone was sleeping anyway, he could enjoy the moment.

 _“Oh, I’ve been sleeping for... for forty days and,”_ Sokka sang along, under his breath. _“I know I’m sleeping cause this dre-a-ms too amazin’”_

The lights of the van reflected off the green sign signaling his exit would come up in a little under fifty miles. _“She’s got gold somethings where her whatevers used to be…”_ As he drove underneath the sign, a glint of someone flashing their brights distracted him just enough to swerve before gaining control again. _“One turn and I learned, assholes don’t know how to fucking drive in this state.”_

He rolled down his window, expecting to be yelled at by someone who had no right to be on the road. Or worse, someone who probably knew _exactly_ what they were doing and it was Sokka who was in the wrong. He mentally went through Appa the Second’s safety list.

The oil couldn’t be an issue, not yet at least. Maybe an engine thing? The light wasn’t on and it always made weird sounds when it started. Lights? He could see the red and yellow reflect off the black concrete through his side-view mirrors. 

Sokka squinted, trying to get a better look at the car. It was an SUV. Maybe something bigger? It looked older, but it was massive. A little bit smaller than their van. A land rover?

Had he seen that car before?

Sokka leaned back in his chair and rolled his window up, hoping the obnoxious cranking wouldn’t wake anyone up. He pressed a little harder on the gas and watched as the distance between the silver car and Appa the Second didn’t change.

The speakers wrong out, _“Bye-bye, to the too good to be true kind of love! Oh, I could die. Oh, now I could die.”_

“Thank you for that burst of confidence, Mr. Sharpe and your merry band of magnetic zeros,” Sokka yanked his phone from the aux cord and tossed it somewhere below him. He felt it land near the gas pedal, but it didn’t stop him from pressing down as hard as he could. “But right now isn’t the time.”

His vision flitted between the speedometer, the road ahead, and the rearview mirror. The other car was still maybe four car lengths away and the junker wasn’t going any faster than 85 miles per hour.

 _Don’t panic, Sokka._ He told himself. _It’s a long stretch of road, you’re probably just going the same way. Sure that’s probably the same car that honked at you earlier, but whoever it is might be friendly. Maybe we'd stumble upon each other at Joshua Tree National Park. Maybe they’d join our breakfast and we'd all laugh off the fact that- why the fuck is he speeding up?_

“Calm down,” Sokka said out loud. “Calm down, you’re fine. You’re fine,” Despite his own words he reached underneath the wheel and flipped the lights of the car off to give them that shield of invisibility. “It’s not a big deal.” He pressed the gas so hard it was touching the carpeted interior. “It’s fine.” His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “Everything’s fine.”

He leaned forward a little to look through Zuko’s window. On the other side of the freeway was open space, from what he could see it didn’t drop. There were maybe fifty feet of nothing before a treeline peppered the horizon. The van was too gaudy to be able to hide in the open darkness. Pulling off to the shoulder wouldn’t do anything for them if they were actually being followed. What Sokka needed was something big and distracting. He needed just a little bit more distance. He needed-

He wasn’t exactly _thinking_ of a turnoff dirt road that led to a huge billboard telling those who passed by to check the adult video store off the next exit. But if the blonde woman with a radiant smile and a mechanized arm moving up to flash those who drove by with a coupon code scrawled across a red bikini top was willing to help them out then so be it. Sokka pulled off the main road without slowing down and skidded to a halt right behind the base of the billboard. It was wide enough that the van could be obscured from the main road if parked directly behind. 

He took a breath. Then another. And another. He scanned the van. Everyone still slept as if nothing had happened. Aang and Katara were still intertwined. Her laptop had only slid along the sheets and was pressed against the siding. Toph still gripped the pillow tightly.

Zuko only turned over, exposing the scarred side to him again. 

Another deep breath.

Zuko favored his right side. He always put the earbud that Sokka offered in on that side. When he put effort into his hair, the few times Sokka had seen it in any way other than down, he’d push his bangs over the scar. It didn't look bad, like how it did when it was fresh and he had first seen him, but it still looked angry. He probably couldn’t hear too well from that side either.

The car approached, the rumble growing louder, and sped by them. It took all the worry that knotted itself in Sokka’s chest with him. That didn’t stop him from peaking just a little to see the car leave. It was too far to make out the plates, and there was nothing particularly noticeable about it other than the outline of a sticker on the window. The hexagonal window to the trunk glinted in the little bit of light the billboard provided before it disappeared into the darkness.

He dropped his head back onto the headrest behind him. Another breath. And another.

_Don’t freak out._

Another deep breath. His eyes fluttered close on their own fruition.

“Sokka?” He snapped his eyes open at the sound of Zuko. “Something’s wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why’d we stop?”

“Just tired…” Sokka said, forcing false honesty into his tone. “Needed a second to wake back up. What better place than under Pao’s Porn Emporium. I hear they’ve got a discount.”

Zuko didn’t answer, instead glaring harder. It didn’t do too much for Sokka, it just made him look cute in a pouty way. He reached out and ran a hand through Zuko’s hair.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

Sokka stopped himself, he wasn’t sure what he was going to ask. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to lean forward and kiss him or ask to be held. “Are you cold?” Sokka decided. “It’s colder than I thought it would be.”

“I guess,” His pout deepened. “Music stopped.”

“Yeah, I turned the car off. It was starting to shake a little.” Sokka insisted. “When we get the time I’ll have to take a look. Do you want a sweatshirt? I’ll let you choose which one.”

“Uh,” Zuko made a fruitless attempt to sit up a little, only to slouch back into Sokka’s touch. “Whichever.”

“I need my hand back to get it for you, Zuke.”

“Right,” That time he did actually manage to sit up. At least for the time being. “You do that.”

Sokka unfastened his seatbelt and climbed into the back, careful not to step on Toph’s sleeping form. But the kid was dead to the world, so he doubted it would make a difference if he had. He knelt by the bed and dug through a few cabinets before finding where Katara had tucked away their thicker clothes. He grabbed the first one on top, an old white champion hoodie. He doesn’t recognize it as his own or Katara’s. It looked a little too big to be Aang’s or even Zuko’s.

_Please don’t be Jet’s. Please don’t be Jet’s. Please don’t be Jet’s._

“This one good?” Sokka asked barely above a whisper as he held up the sweatshirt. The top of Zuko’s head peaked from behind the seat. It took him a moment to register what Sokka was showing him as he squinted and leaned a little closer. Then after a moment that made it seem like he went through all the stages of grief at once, he sat back in his chair. “I don’t know why I grabbed that.”

_So, it was Jet’s._

Sokka thought about putting it back before thinking better of it. It was a little chilly after all, and Toph hadn’t gotten a sweatshirt while they were out. At least not one that Sokka had noticed. They’d be back by September, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He tossed it onto Toph and it landed over her legs. Sokka dug through the pile, this time specifically aiming for one of his own. He pulled out a black sweatshirt with the phases of the moon in cheap white paint up the arms chipped with age. Since he was already back there, he climbed onto the bed just enough without jostling the two sleeping figures to grab the blanket and drape that over them too. Once he climbed back into the front seat, Zuko was already back asleep.

Sokka sighed and tossed it onto Zuko’s lap who hummed a half-awake thanks before turning back to the window.

He felt like he was alone again. Not alone enough to freak out comfortably, but alone.

He hated it when it was quiet.

Sokka reached down to the floor of the car and picked up his phone. The shell of the OtterBox case he had around it had begun to crack. The blue camouflage design was already scratched with age and ware, so he didn’t think too much of it. The aux cord and adapter were right beside it.

The first song that started with a familiar guitar riff before a nasally tenor came in with _“Patiently listenin' you're keepin' your distance but I was still hoping that we could be friends. But if that's too much then I'll ask no more than this which we've buried-”_

_Not that one. Anything but that one. Not right now. Not when Zuko is right there._

He reminded him of her.

He flipped the lights back on. The car turned over with less struggle. He skipped the songs until landing on a safe neutral Six Below by Flipturn. The blonde billboard lady waved them off with a flash of pearly whites and a flash of bandeau that the artist had way too much fun detailing.

It’s another forty-five minutes until he pulled into the national park. Another thirty until he found the perfect spot.

It had been off the main paths if there even were areas that could be considered main areas in the park. Main enough that he still saw signs saying not to feed the native wildlife and that the cactus aren’t things to be played with; yet distanced so deep into the park that Appa’s tire tracks were the only ones for miles. There was a steep hill that faced east with a drop of no less than twenty feet off the edge into what Sokka could only assume was a pit of cacti and pointy rocks. As if he needed another reason for the minor panic that stirred his stomach to peek in again.

The view was pretty though.

The sun hadn’t quite started it’s ascent into the sky yet. Stars speckled the gradually lightning blue sky as the horizon line looked like it went on for thousands of miles. Yet simultaneously like it was just a sheet in front of him and he could separate the two. Land and sky. Earth and air. 

The little peak had a smattering of the famous Joshua Trees up and down the hill. A hill that, Sokka just realized, was too steep for the van to make it up. The risk of the breaks failing made him park at the base, only mildly whining about how they’d have to go up and down the hill on foot.

He felt his eyes drift to the rearview mirror. The back windows were still open, the curtains looped around pressure rods that he installed along the siding. Past Katara and Aang’s sleeping forms, he saw more vast desert. He was surrounded by it. The closest sign suggesting they were even allowed to be there was one a mile back that warned them of pit vipers and not to do ayahuasca while dehydrated.

Either the rangers who kept up with the park had _seen_ some things, or Sokka had misremembered the appeal of a heavy trip. _You do acid in the desert. You do ayahuasca when you have thousands of dollars to drop on a trip around the-_

_Holy shit was Aang going to do ayahuasca? He’d be the type. He doesn’t look it, but he’d do it. What a weird word… I-O-Wah-_

A loud thunk coming from the back of the van took him out of his thoughts and his heart rate picked up. He glanced over his shoulder through the back window again, still nothing. 

His mind went back to the car an hour before. He was just being paranoid. Not paranoid, rightfully freaked out. How the hell had Aang talked him into going with him? Why’d Zuko tag along? Why’d Toph seem so eager to leave?

Another thunk.

Fuck it. He was _the adult._ He could handle whatever that was and unpack the car chase thing later. If there was anything to unpack. They could have just all been driving the same way. Hell, they could have been two entirely different cars. Big SUV’s weren’t exactly uncommon.

Sokka reached past Zuko’s sleeping form for the glove department and dug around until he felt cool leather against his fingertips. He gripped the hilt tightly and pulled the weapon out slowly until it was in his lap. A well-loved machete with scratches of character along the steel blade and a bone hilt wrapped in the same leather that made the sheath, both decorated with embedded burns in a language he barely learned.

Maybe he was overthinking it.

Another thunk, that one paired with the sound of metal hitting stone and Zuko stirring beside him.

“Sokka?” Zuko said, his voice rasped with sleep. He barely lifted his head from the chair and his eyes were squinted and his lip corners were turned down in a sleepy pout. “We’re here?”

“No. We’re just stranded in the middle of the desert,” Zuko’s expression warped deeper into confusion and Sokka realized he was probably still too tired to register the sarcasm in his tone. “Yeah, we’re here.”

Zuko groaned and buried his face into the sweatshirt Sokka had tossed onto him earlier. He had it wrapped in a hug and nosed at the hood. “Colder than I thought.”

“You can wear it until it warms up.”

Zuko looked up again, this time waking up a little more. That didn’t stop him from clinging onto the soft cotton fabric and skating his fingers over the designs up the arm. “I was going to without your permission, honestly.”

“Well,” Sokka shrugged. “Just know that I’m cool with it.”

“Noted,” Zuko ran a hand through his hair, messing it up more than fixing it. The motion froze at the apex of his scalp as he looked down at Sokka’s lap. “Sokka?”

“Yeah?”

“Brandishing a weapon might mess with Katara’s rule about not doing anything illegal.”

“Oh,” Sokka looked down at the machete, still tight in his grip. “You know, the fact that you didn’t immediately think I’m an axe murderer is a testament to our budding relationship.”

“If you had murdered me in my sleep, I can think of at least fifteen people who’d thank you and I’d be one of them.”

_"Baby, don’t say that!”_

“I was joking.” Zuko corrected as he began to pull the sweatshirt over his head.

“I volunteer myself as your joke ghostwriter. Here’s my pitch:” Sokka cleared his throat and put on his best Zuko impression. The raspiness sort of hurt his throat and the fact that his Zuko voice was just a _little_ lower than his natural one stung a little too. “Is that a machete in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m guessing I didn’t get the job? That’s okay, I have a few other jokes on the backburner.”

 _“Sokka.”_ He doesn’t know how Zuko does it. It was just such a specific way he said his name, his tongue catching on the K’s, deadpanned, lips still parted after the name had fully escaped. 

The list just kept getting longer.

“Yeah?”

 _“What are you doing?”_ He said again, that time with an edge to it that made Sokka’s stomach burst into butterflies.

He held up the machete and removed the sheath with a dramatic flair, fumbling it at the last second. “I’m about to save all of our lives.”

Sokka pushed the door open and brandished the machete in two hands, already over his shoulder. Prepared to swing down in a moment's notice. He rounded the back of the van ready to attack. “SNEAK ATT- _AH!”_

Instead of a fiendish spy trying to ruin their trip that Sokka would have handled fantastically, de-arming and throwing him to the ground. Zuko would throw his arms around him and say, _My Hero,_

_It was just a turtle._

One that looked pissed to be in the predicament he was in, and snapped at Sokka as soon as he rounded the corner.

But a turtle nonetheless.

He dropped the machete to his side, letting the weight swing his arm lazily as Zuko climbed out of the car and joined him.

"It could have been dangerous for you to be out here," Sokka said while Zuko looked over the animal, a fond smile on both of their faces. "Could have been an assassination attempt."

"I thought you said you didn't want me to joke about me dying."

"No, I can make them," He gestured the flat edge of the blade towards his heart. "Because in the end, I would have saved you valiantly."

"My hero," Sokka smiled wider. Yeah, it did sound nice hearing Zuko say it. The familiar sarcastic deadpan was just as good, if not better than his original take. "Is there a towel I can use or something?"

"For what?"

"He's almost under the wheel," Zuko pointed at the snapping turtle, content to stay in the shade of the van and nip at the machinery that Sokka took way too long to learn and reconstruct for it to be ruined with a few well-placed bites. "I don't want you to run him over when we leave."

"Him?"

"Towel?"

"You know, you're only one step to naming him. And if you name him, Aang will let you keep him."

"I'm not keeping a snapping turtle, Sokka."

"We can just call him Bitey."

_"Towel, Sokka?"_

Sokka laughed and swung the machete over his shoulder again. "Yeah, I'll find something. One second."

He ran back over to the front seat and tossed the machete back into the glove department. Another day, my friend. He dug around a little longer before finding an old dishrag that read 'If you didn't help cook, you can't help eat.' that had found its way into the long list of things Sokka accidentally left with Aang. He handed it over to Zuko who was already approaching the snapping turtle.

"Are you just gonna," Sokka made a vague motion toward the animal. "What are you doing?"

"He's- _It's_ not stuck," Zuko knelt behind the creature, just far enough to be out of range if it were to attack. Which Sokka was sure was about to happen as the turtle jumped a little and turned it's deceptively long neck in Zuko's general direction. "It looks like it was just in the middle of a walk. I'll put it where there's some grass or something."

Sokka looked around again, "I hate to rain on your parade, baby, but there's no grass."

"There's enough to do this," He scooped the turtle from the back, bracing one hand underneath and one on top of the shell. He stood to a crouch and took a few slow and careful steps until he made it to a small fairly dry bush underneath the odd-shaped shadows that Joshua trees provided. Once the turtle was settled and Zuko stood back up, the animal started munching leisurely at the small patch of green. "See? It looks much happier."

"And I'm much happier knowing you and Aang wouldn't have a meltdown if I ran him over," Sokka nodded. "Now that you've proven you can do that without getting hurt, are you willing to wake everyone else up?"

"Absolutely not," Zuko walked back over to him. "I'll stick to setting up breakfast."

"Fine."

They walked back around to the main side of the van and pulled the doors open. Zuko leaned against the side, arms crossed over his chest as Sokka climbed in. "WAKEY WAKEY EGGS AND BAKEY!" Sokka shouted as he yanked the blanket from Katara and Aang, who only pulled each other tighter in their still asleep cuddle. "Or I guess for Aang, EGGS AND THAT GROSS TOFU SHIT!"

"It's not gross," Aang opened his eyes just enough to see the predicament he was in and was overcome with a deep blush, but he still didn't move. Probably out of fear of waking Katara up like _that._

But, Sokka knew his sister. She was already awake. Toph grumbled from beside them, twisting herself so that she could push the opposite ends of the pillow up to her ears. "Shut the fuck up, Snoozles."

"Goodmorning to you too, Toph," He hopped out of the van and back onto solid ground. Zuko made no effort to move. He looked at him in a way that Sokka couldn't quite place. “What?”

“Nothing.” Zuko defended, but it didn't sound like he had even convinced himself. He looked dreamy again, like he had fallen back asleep while standing there.

“Do I have something in my teeth?” Zuko’s stare stayed strong. “I was snacking on some of Aang’s vegan brownie things while I was driving.”

“No,” He shook his head, a soft smile finding its way back. “You’re good.”

“Great.”

Toph’s snore signaled that the three of them had begun to drift back off to sleep. Sokka slammed the paneling a little harder to jolt them awake again.

“You’re the one who wanted breakfast!” Sokka shouted into the car.

“What’d it taste like?” Zuko asked, tucking his hands into the sweatshirt’s front pockets.

“What?”

“The brownies.”

“Oh,” Sokka shrugged. “Like shit. Looked it too.”

“Thank you for the vivid imagery.”

 _“Anytime.”_ Sokka watched as Zuko boosted himself back into the van with a hard tug to the handles flanking the entrance. Making a beeline for the makeshift kitchenette. Katara clambered out after him.

“I’m guessing you slept pretty well, Kat?”

_"Shut up.”_

By the time Sokka managed to get everyone up, and by that he meant wake up his sister and Aang and have Katara deal with yanking Toph away from the body pillow, the sun had begun to breach the horizon. Zuko had set up the picnic at the top of the hill, just a few feet away from the edge. Close enough to see that Sokka was right about the pit of cacti and spikey rocks. Yet, still safe enough for the concern of falling over to only be at the back of his mind rather than a glaring sign in his brain making sure to keep everyone safe. 

There were five ceramic plates, all still had the barcode stickers on the bottom, that Zuko had set out. Aang had purchased them the night before, preferring the ceramics to paper plates. Plus, he liked that he could designate each of his friends with their very own plate. As Katara passed out the egg sandwiches and Zuko thawed the frozen teas by rolling the bottles in his hands, Aang explained the method of his madness.

Aang’s own looked like the adult equivalent of a zoo-pal. It was a detailed painting of a penguin with smaller sections, splitting the plate into three parts. Katara’s was all swirled blues and whites that matched the similar pattern of her work on the cabinets. Aang knew Toph wouldn’t see it, but he got a simple black ceramic plate for her with the words ‘Eat a dick’ in raised gold glaze. Zuko’s was matte black like Toph’s, but instead of a phrase, an intricate dragon was circling the edge of the plate. Sokka’s was _also_ an adult zoo-pal.

At least he knew his audience.

They ate breakfast while the sun rose, casting the valley in yellows and pinks as the day began to heat up again. They chatted about random things like the plates, the cacti, the nicer roads than upstate New York. Simple conversation and teasing remarks. The sun had breached the horizon line fully by the time Sokka registered that Zuko hadn’t been talking. More importantly, that those two hours in the van were probably the only time he slept in the last two days. He shuffled away from his spot in the middle of the gray blanket to be closer to Zuko. Who had abandoned the sweatshirt, instead opting for the same black tank top and _the shorts_ that he had fallen asleep in. 

“How’d you sleep?” Sokka asked, watching Zuko take his last bite of sandwich.

“Well,” Zuko said after swallowing and putting his plate back onto the blanket. “I slept well. Better than I thought I would.”

_“That’s good.”_

“You still seem pretty rested from that six-hour nap you took before we went to the pool.”

“Yeah, I’m sure as soon as I’m done driving, I’ll be out.”

Zuko was quiet for a moment as he watched the younger three sit on the edge and swing their legs off the twenty-foot drop. Zuko did that often, he’d go quiet and his eyes would go distant. Like he really wasn’t looking at where his eyes were pointed but were somewhere else completely. Sokka reached up and traced circles around Zuko’s shoulder blade and down his spine. The muscles relaxed under his touch and a pleasant hum reverberated against Sokka’s hand. He skirted down, thumbing along the hem of Zuko’s tanktop and then back up the sides. It takes another circuit, up down and around, for Zuko to look back down at him. He did it through half-lidded eyes and a semi-annoyed glare that slowly melted into a smile when Sokka asked “Lay down with me?”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a crippling romantic?”

“Not like _that,_ but yeah. I’ve been told I’m attentive, protective, and detail-oriented.”

“When? A job interview? Your college application?”

“When my last girlfriend broke up with me,” Sokka said it with a laugh, and Zuko laughed too, but his laughter was more hesitant and guarded. “I mean, among other things. But what a way to go, right?”

Another cycle and Sokka could feel the pattern of Zuko’s breathing through his spine. “That’s not a good reason to break up with somebody.”

“No, with Suki it was. It’s not a big deal now, it hurt at first, but we decided we were better off as friends,” He caressed along Zuko’s side and ran a finger between the spaces of his ribs. Zuko’s eyes flutter closed. “And, you know, she _actually_ meant it.”

“My last girlfriend broke up with me because I lied to her one too many times,” Zuko sighed. “And now she’s dating my sister which is… ironic at best and awful karmic justice at worst.”

Sokka’s hand stilled on Zuko’s spine. That was a lot more to unpack in a sentence than he expected to get. “O-oh,” He sputtered. “I don’t know why I thought you were-”

“Gay?” Zuko laughed. “No, I am. _Very._ But so is she.”

“And you guys dated?”

“She was my friend and I had _allegedly_ been outed to some news outlet,” He shrugged, like that was a normal Tuesday for him. “It was easier to get us to media training than for my father to issue a statement.”

“Was the ‘ _breaking up over a lie’_ thing just to call off the stunt?”

“No,” He shook his head. “No, she meant it. She was always so distant and I felt _too much_ for her. We clashed a lot anyway, it wasn’t great. But, we’re friends again. Better off like that. ”

_Zuko had had media training to fake being straight. Zuko had dated a girl. Zuko shivered when his ribs were touched. Zuko had a small tattoo on the back of his right bicep of a set of Japanese characters. Zuko had at least one relationship end because of him lying._

Sokka decided teasing him would be better than to bring any of his cataloged intricacies up. He’d ask about the tattoo later. The lying thing would just sit on the backburner. “And I’m the one whose a crippling romantic?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zuko matched his tone. “I do this with all of my friends.”

He started moving again, another circuit. Sokka slipped his hand underneath the fabric and continued moving up and down, circling vertebrates, following the lines of hip bones. Movements only stuttered by the friction of sweaty skin. “Is this okay?”

“It’s nice.”

 _“Lay down with me?”_ That time, there was no hesitation.

The few clouds that had found their way above the desert sky drifted along with pinks and oranges.

Sokka pulled his arm out from under the fabric to pillow Zuko’s head and wrapped around his shoulder while the other arm propped his head up. The ground was hard and uncomfortable and gravel clung to their skin. Zuko’s cheeks were flushed from the sun but he looked like he was meant to bask in it. Even still, it didn’t change the light concern his expression was still twisted in. “Are you okay?” He asked, turning his head just enough to see Zuko’s profile.

_Zuko had a black stud in his ear and what looked like an abandoned attempt at a tragus piercing. Zuko had a barely-there trace of stubble underneath his chin. Zuko had a freckle in the spot between his ear and his jaw._

If the chance was ever presented to him, Sokka would bury his face in the crook of Zuko’s neck and kiss that spot as long as he could just to see what it would sound like.

“Of course I’m okay,” Zuko finally said after the moment of silence was broken by Aang and Toph laughing several feet away from them. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just-” Sokka sighed despite himself, forcing the oddly present nervous and jittery energy into thumbing across Zuko’s collarbone. “Nevermind.”

_“Sorry.”_

“You don’t need to keep apologizing.”

“You know saying that is just going to make me apologize more,” Zuko closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to Sokka’s clothed shoulder. “You stopped last night.”

“Yeah, you were awake.”

“I was awake _enough,”_ He said, against Sokka’s shoulder before pulling away and gazing back up at the sky. “I woke up when you started speeding. I thought something was wrong.”

“Nothing was wrong,” Sokka insisted. “I just needed a second, I felt like I was going to fall asleep. I told you that.”

Zuko pursed his lips in a moment of thought. A helicopter flew overhead and he shifted away from Sokka’s touch ever so slightly. _“Okay.”_

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” Zuko looked back at him, his eyes crossing slightly with the proximity. “I was probably just overthinking something.”

The sun continued its climb and they joined the others at the ledge. Shooting the breeze, tossing bread crumbs and eggs of the side, seeing who could spit the farthest between Toph Aang and Sokka.

Toph won, but she didn’t need to know that.

(Until she did find out because Katara said it and Aang agreed while Zuko watched the debacle go down.)

It was seven AM by the time they ended the picnic. Katara went to rinse the plates off, Aang went to dry them, Toph kicked her feet up on a rock farther from the edge and lounged while repeatedly inflating and crushing her plastic water bottle because Aang had insisted they wait until they came across a recycling bin to get rid of them.

Sokka went to stand up with the full intention of making it to his feet without rock falling from under his stance and a minor panic of falling down a cliff face only two days into a trip before Zuko yanked him from the edge.

In retrospect, Sokka was thankful that it was merely an awkward angle of his ankle from moving a little too fast and a sharper than should be rock that fucked up his day instead of falling face-first into a pit of cacti. But, that didn’t mean the stabbing pain radiating at his ankle and shooting up his leg felt great either.

There was a flurry of movement that Sokka couldn’t bring himself to pay attention too because Zuko was looking him in the eye. There was more pupil than gold and he was being lowered to the ground until he was sitting on his ass, wincing a little when his foot touched the ground.

Katara said something that only got an eye roll and a half-assed glance over his shoulder in response. Aang looked between the two, his arms held up in defense as if he was translating the probable anger between the two.

“It could be broken!” That was Katara's voice angry voice. Whoever got that reaction from her was in big-

“It’s not broken, he’d be going into shock if it was broken.” _It was Zuko. Of course it was Zuko._ Sokka opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a gasp of pain.

“I’m sorry," Katara goaded. "Are you the one with first aid training?”

“No, but I’ve had my shit rocked enough times to know the signs.”

“Really? I wonder why.”

“I’ve barely spoken to you, I don’t know why you hate me already.”

“I don’t hate you-”

“Hey guys," Aang stepped in the line of fire between the two, most of his attention on Katara to keep her from rushing towards Zuko. "We shouldn’t do this right no-”

“-I just don’t trust you with my brother.”

“Your brother is _bleeding.”_

 _I’m bleeding?_ He looked down at his ankle and was met with red and a coppery scent to the air as his stomach turned. _I’m bleeding._

_Like, a lot._

Another sharp pain, that one because Zuko pressed hard on the gash on his ankle.

Sokka hissed and his stomach tightened. He hunched over himself and his forehead tucked into the crook of Zuko's neck and shoulder. _“Motherfucker! WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT?”_

“Hey, baby,” _It sounds so much nicer when he says it._ “Look at me, okay?”

Sokka does. He felt like he could feel the world spinning. “We gotta stop meeting like this, Zuke.” He said, but at that moment he realized he could feel his pulse where Zuko was squeezing. He looked back down where the pain was coming from. Zuko had one hand pressed firmly overtop the most painful spot, his hand was warm and stained red but his grip didn't waver. His other hand was on Sokka's upper thigh, bracing himself so he could be closer. Zuko tilted his head in front of Sokka's line of vision, a surprisingly inviting smile on his face. “I’m beginning to think you’re doing it on purpose.”

Zuko had done the exact same thing when Sokka had hit his head. It was comforting, and just like last time he couldn't help but wonder how the hell he could be so good despite the world around him being so _bad._

“You’ll know it’s on purpose if it happens again,” Sokka forced his voice to steady from the pain. “Your bedside care is great, by the way. Other than the uh... _that.”_

“No it's not,” He rolled his eyes and looked somewhere past Sokka's shoulder. “Good news, it’s not broken.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you haven’t passed out from this.”

Sokka laughed. At least, he tried to laugh. It felt strained in his throat and probably sounded more like a sob. “Maybe I’m just really tough.”

“I won’t deny that.” Zuko pulled away just enough so that they'd have their own space to breathe again.

“You called me baby earlier.” Sokka prompted and watched as the rose of Zuko's cheeks raced down his neck and to his ears.

“Did I?”

“Yeah, I get why you like it so much now," He nodded, leaning back onto his elbows. “Am I gonna make it?”

“No," Zuko teased, looking back down at the injury and taking a little pressure off of it. The bleeding had slowed significantly. "Last will and testament?” _Absolutely nothing goes to Katara_ his brain supplied him. Zuko looked back up, Sokka's silence must have concerned him. "You just spaced."

“I just got really weird Deja Vu for a second.”

Before Zuko got the chance to ask, or even before Sokka got the chance to wonder why that phrase came up, Katara rushed over. She had cotton, ace bandages, and a horrifying amount of rubbing alcohol in one hand and a sopping wet bandana in the other. She tossed the bandana to Zuko and instructed him to get the blood off his hands and said an almost unheard _thank you._

"Yeah, you were right," She said, definitely to Zuko but not looking at him as she looked down at the offending injury. The bruises started to set in and the swelling made his ankle look capped. "Not broken, just sprained. The sprain isn't even that bad, it's the cut."

There was more back and forth that Sokka wasn't paying attention to. Aang joined them and helped clean it off. He and Zuko managed to distract him enough that he only screamed a little when the alcohol hit the open area. Even Toph joined them, talking like nothing had changed to try and keep the panic to a minimum. Katara mentioned he probably didn't need stitches, but that he should keep an eye on it just in case.

_Last will and testament... what the fuck was that about?_

It clicked as Katara sat back on her heels, admiring her quick work. "I almost fell off the top of the van because of you!"

Katara raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"When we were fixing it. The first day," He sat up a little and turned his attention to Zuko. "I got distracted and I said something and Kat shook the van. I almost fell off and I wrote my will in my head. _Not Deja Vu."_

Katara rolled her eyes as the memory clicked. “You deserved it,” She said as Aang, Toph, and she gathered their picnic and emergency triage supplies to bring back to the car. "Zuko, your only job is to get Sokka back to the van."

"Got it," Zuko said, casting one last look to the others as they descended the hill. “What led up to it? Her shaking the van, I mean.”

“I don’t know, I climbed up because I wanted to see if it could hold my weight and then Aang left to-”

_Is the surprise that your friend is rich?_

_Or is it that your friend is-_

“Talk to you…” He finished. “Katara shoved the van and I almost fell because I was looking at-” He stopped himself and looked up to see Zuko’s expression.

“What?”

_Don’t say your ass. Don’t say your ass. Don’t say your ass._

“You,” He said instead. “You were climbing out of your car and Aang ran up to you and you had dark sunglasses on. And the shorts. _Those_ shorts.” He added, pointing down at Zuko's lap.

Zuko looked down at himself like he had forgotten he had been wearing them. On the other hand, Sokka could never forget or have them go unnoticed. “They’re the only pair that I didn’t take from Jet or you.”

“Oh…”

Katara called for them again and they both scrambled to get up only for Sokka to remember he fucked up his ankle and that was the whole reason he was on the ground and in pain in the first place. Zuko caught and steadied him as he wrapped an arm around his waist. Sokka hooked an arm over Zuko's shoulder and held tight. 

They managed to hobble a few more feet before Zuko spoke up again. “I think this is the seventh time.”

Sokka looked over, limping along. “Seventh time for what?”

“Falling off the car, burning your esophagus on something that actually _wasn’t that spicy,”_ He began. “Concussion-”

“Mild conc-”

“ _Mild concussion,_ sorry. High, sleep-deprived, high again, you burning yourself again, whatever happened earlier, and-”

“Wait-” Sokka interrupted, leaning more into Zuko to get a little more weight off his foot. 

“Now this,” Zuko steadied him with a hand to his chest. “Do you want me to just carry you?”

Sokka looked him over for a moment, considering the reality of the offer. “Half of me wants to say no because I’m not a pussy the other half kinda wants to see if you can.”

“I can.”

“I’ll break you.”

“By the looks of it, I think I’m more durable,” He gestured down to Sokka’s ankle before turning around and kneeling. “Just climb on.”

“If you’re back gets thrown out, it’s not my fault.”

“It would technically be _all_ your fault, but it won’t happen,” Zuko stood up, a little shaky and slow, but he did it. He adjusted a little to get his bearings and walked the last few feet to the van. Sokka hooked his legs around Zuko's waist. He felt like he was in this weird Twilight zone between thinking it was really hot and really wished he was the one carrying Zuko. Another time.

Another thing on the list.

“I told you.” Zuko said once the hill flattened out and his pace could pick up without the fear of both of them toppling over.

“I’m gonna make you carry me around every day.”

“You sprained your ankle, and you’re being a baby. This is the only time it’ll ever happen because I feel guilty.”

“Why?” He stopped, “Wait what did you mean by the seventh time?”

Zuko sighed, “Every time I’m around, something bad or weird happens.”

“I’m just a little clumsy sometimes, it’s not a big deal,” Sokka hesitated. “Wait, you counted them? _Aw, he does care.”_

“Yeah… it’s just…” He braced himself against the side of the van and let Sokka make his way off of it. “It’s stupid.”

“Why? you think you’re bad luck or something?”

“No, _I’m_ lucky,” Zuko insisted, but the way he said it didn’t make it seem positive. “I just think it’s odd. I was just noticing the… the pattern.”

“There’s a pattern?”

“I mean, that’s just a lot of bad shit that started happening because I’m here.”

“I’ve been worse,” Sokka said but decided better not to divulge that on Zuko. “I mean, I’ve been better, physically but-”

“Me too.” Zuko interrupted then quickly backpedals. “About the _worse_ thing. I just-”

“Use your words.”

Zuko pulled the side panels open instead, a little harsher than necessary. “Maybe later. I’ll drive a few hours, you can get some rest.”

“Buddy-”

“Elevate your leg, it’s not swelling badly yet but it’ll get worse if you don't get the weight off of it soon,” He helped get Sokka into the van and steadied him before climbing into the driver's seat. “Put on an ice pack, you know where they are.”

“I’m already on the floor, there’s no room back here!” Toph argued, only to be quickly shut up by Katara telling her she could ride shotgun and Aang directing her towards where the step down was. Sokka clambered to lean against the driver's seat. Although he tried to make it as smooth as possible, he ended up putting all his weight into the seat and barely handing off the keys before needing to brace himself on the middle console.

Zuko still seemed a little out of it as he started the car and Toph flipped through radio stations. "Sit down," he said as Appa the Second rumbled to life. "You'll get hurt again."

To Sokka, it doesn't make sense. It's cute that Zuko was concerned, and both of them could play it off as not a big deal. That was easy enough. But Zuko just seemed out of it. The 'seven times.' The 'being lucky.' It all felt wrong. Like he wasn't saying everything.

Then, something hit him.

“Zuko, what kind of car do you have?”

Zuko caught his eye in the rearview mirror as he adjusted it to his height. “Why?”

“Just curious,” Sokka said, forcing himself to seem cool and collected. He leaned in close to Zuko's right ear, a harder task to do than expected thanks to the balancing act he had going on. “Trying to remember something other than _the shorts.”_

Zuko blushed and bit down on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry, I don’t know. I’m kinda shitty with cars.”

“It was nice, though wasn’t it?”

“It probably used to be nice. I don’t know, I got it when I was sixteen.”

“Like ‘ _birthday present’_ 16?” Zuko nodded “And you don’t know what kind of car it is?”

“I’m not a car guy,” Zuko defended himself. “It’s an SUV. Silver.”

_It's a common car._

He steadied himself by gripping tight onto the headrest as Zuko drove from their secluded little spot onto the main road. Careful to avoid animals and deep potholes.

Maybe he could get over himself if he just saw it. Maybe if he saw Zuko with his _own_ car again, it would dissipate the weird nerves he felt thinking about it. It could have just been the idea that, at the time, Zuko was a stranger. A hot stranger with a big car and dark sunglasses and a raspy tenor that carried across the driveway whose father was one of the main reasons Sokka couldn't call any place _home._ Not truly. But the Zuko who was inches away from touching him was awkward and beautiful and just so happened to have a dad who was a monster. The two events didn't exist together. They were two different people.

_It's a common car. It wasn't even following you. It was a long stretch of road._

Then he got an idea. "You have an Instagram, right?"

Zuko hesitated, but Toph laughed beside him as a rock station blared. “That’s a loaded question.”

“Why?”

“I’m not active on either, and I don't want you to see-”

"I don't think you want either," Toph interrupted “You’re pretty much just asking to see him with his dad or see his nudes.”

Sokka couldn't convince himself to speak as Zuko sputtered for cover. “That was only one time and it was tasteful and how would you even know I posted it and it was barely a nude-”

“Context, Sparky,” Toph said, folding her arms over her chest. “The comments really paint the picture.”

“They don’t matter,” Zuko looked away from the road for a moment to look at Sokka and shoot him an apologetic smile. “And they’re private, so if you request, or something, you wouldn’t be able to see until I reinstall it anyway. And censor everything accordingly.”

 _That’s cool and all but that doesn’t help the fact that I’m basically stalking the man in front of me and now I know that I may see him naked which is a definite plus but not what I was aiming for._ Sokka thought as he finally peeled himself off of the back of Zuko's seat.

He goes and sits by his sister and Aang. Aang was listening to music and thankfully missed the majority of that conversation as he worked away on something that looked like an overcompensated friendship bracelet while Katara had fallen back asleep. Her laptop was still open to the word document of her essay and Sokka couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the flashing cursor already halfway down the page. They’d only been driving for a day and she already had that much to say. It made him wonder what the hell he had missed while it was just her and Aang.

Deciding he didn’t want to unpack THAT he turned his attention back to the younger teen.

“Can I borrow your phone for a second?” Aang moved one earphone from his ear with his brows knit together, registering what was just to said to him for a second. Before he agreed and handed his phone over.

“Yeah, of course. Just don’t close apple music.”

“Got it,” Sokka went straight to the app and wasn't at all surprised to see a timeline full of inspirational quotes, vegan influencers, and open discussions of religion. “You follow Zuko, right?”

“On what?”

“Instagram.”

“Yeah, I follow both of them,” Aang said before he caught himself. He tossed the friendship bracelet to the side and reached back for his phone “Wait-”

“I won’t be weird," Sokka insisted as he held the phone just out of the kid's reach. Aang sighed and drew his arm back in. "It’s a healthy curiosity.”

"Don't close out of apple music." Aang requested, and with a nod, Sokka dove into Instagram user _aanngg_'s following list.

He had to scroll deeper than he anticipated. Through the near three thousand accounts he followed, the majority were random accounts of cute animals and near every single person at their school. Then he finds one: Zuko_Hiranuma.

It had roughly fifteen thousand followers and a profile picture of Dao swords mounted on a brick wall. Most of the pictures looked like they were from press events. A girl with long black hair, curtain bangs, and who exclusively wore black and maroon was plastered by his side in almost every one. That had to have been the media girlfriend Zuko mentioned. Her eyes were sharp and neither smiled but the two of them made it look more attractive than intimidating. Zuko's hair was pulled in a tight bun at the back of his head in every picture and his skin was surprisingly clear of any mark. Sokka looked at the dates the pictures were posted only to see they were from three years ago. That's what Zuko looked like when he was SIXTEEN? All sharp lines, constant grimace, a hot goth girlfriend? Sokka looked back up at the driver. Zuko had his foot up on the seat and drove more with his knee than his hands. He bit nervously at his thumbnail as Toph sang along with Nirvana.

Actually, it kinda made a lot of sense.

There were a few images of his father scattered around. Most were from various speeches around the world with an automated caption about the _movement._ The further he scrolled back the more he saw with Zuko's sister, Azula. Someone he only recognized from the old add campaigns that played on the TV in the living room when his mother came home from work and would hold him until the cartoons came back on. Zuko's sister couldn't have been any older than fourteen in those pictures. She still had chubby cheeks but they felt odd compared to the daggers she stared through the camera.

The last picture was one with Ozai, Zuko, Azula, and another woman. The three familiar faces were much younger than he had ever imagined them. None of them were smiling, not honestly. Ozai had his hand around the woman's waist in a similar way to how Zuko had his arm around his media beard's waist. But with him, it looked like it could pass as a mutual agreement. With Ozai it looked forced. His hand on Zuko's shoulder looked like the grip was too tight. The woman's eyes were like Zuko's.

It was his mother.

The caption read simply read: Happy Mother's Day.

Nothing there felt personable. It was crafted and wrong. And it was Zuko's life up until two years ago, by the looks of it.

What had changed?

He went back to Aang's following list. The second account was more difficult. It didn't help that it was one that Zuko very specifically kept hidden. After a few minutes of scrolling through as fast as he could and then starting again from the bottom, one sticks out to him. The profile picture is a fluffy yellow chick from below looking like it was ready for a fight. The username read _Leaf_me_al0ne,_ and the name underneath read _I'm Bushed._ He didn't need to see the follower count of only five people and the bio saying 'Hello, Lee Hira Here' to connect the rest of the dots.

Jackpot.

Sokka didn’t get the chance to scroll through that far until he saw the most recent post. 

It’s a thumbs-up, Zuko’s based on the hospital bracelet that showed his name, date of birth, and blood type, in a very sterile looking hospital room. The only caption was “I did it” and an upside-down smiley face. Most of the comments were various forms of _“Are you okay?_ ” and _“call me”_ but one stuck out in particular to Sokka. It’s in response to a girl with a profile pic of… holy shit was that Ty Lee? He recognized the username and the girl who he flirted with casually while at the gym but chose not to unpack that. There’s a response to her question from another user named:  bluereally_is_thewarmestcolor  that said _“daddy issues hit different.”_

He felt sick. He was right, obviously, but he felt sick knowing it. He pushed forward anyway, the car no longer being his end goal. He wanted to know what happened. What was _it_ that Zuko had done that got him hurt so badly. Toph's comment only slightly urged him onward as well. 

The pictures were mostly screenshots of a very gory and bloody looking anime with the occasional pretty sunset or unflattering angle of the corner of one eye with pillows and a red wall behind him. Probably from his bed. Sokka realized that even _those_ were paired with a steely gaze so maybe Zuko just didn't have a bad angle. Then he came across a screenshot of someone else’s Snapchat. Zuko was holding a glass of a dark brown liquid with cubed ice in one hand. The other is busy in a bright red cast with scribbles up and down it while being draped over the shoulder of the same mopey girl from his other account. Ty Lee is to the right of him, frozen in a state of pure joy while talking animatedly to whoever had taken the picture. The username looks similar to the one who had responded to Ty Lee's comment earlier. But, it was just different enough to confirm his suspicions. _‘Blue_Hira’_ had written “Zuzu’s pity party.” in the bold font and formatted it so that it looked like the phrase was written on the menu in front of her.

The caption underneath the pic read _“I know it may not look like it, but sometimes she has a heart”_

Another response from bluereally_is_thewarmestcolor stated ' _I know it may not look like it, but sometimes he has a brain.'_ And a response from Aang’s account that just has three fire emojis and a yellow heart.

The one that followed was from three weeks before. December 30th. Sokka tried hard not to think about what he was doing that day. It was of Zuko and Jet, definitely in bed together. He could feel his grip tighten on the phone as a surge of jealousy seized in his chest before he could stomp it out. They were together then. He knew that. Of course Zuko would post little things like that. It couldn't have been all bad if they had been together for two years.

Wait...Sokka found his answer. 

Not for whatever it had been or even the car thing, but why Zuko from three years before could have been an entirely different person to the one several feet ahead of him singing along to the Wombats.

For better or for worse, Jet did that.

The video played automatically, but Sokka refused to click the sound. Knowing full well it would only get Aang's attention about how he had watched the looped fifteen seconds way too many times.

He couldn't make much out of it but the longer it looped the more details he caught. It was lit only by the phone's flash. Zuko had dark bruising hickeys until his collarbone where the frame cut off. Jet was behind him, his head was peaking over just a bit with those stupid eyebrows. Both of their hair was an absolute wreck. Zuko looked sort of out of it, but his mouth was moving or his eyebrow was raising whenever Jet said something and pressed a kiss to the crest of his throat every few phrases. Sokka forced himself to scroll to the next slide. It was surprisingly bright and it’s... Well, it is the nude that technically _wasn’t_ a nude.

Zuko had boxers on, but Jet only had a towel and that wasn’t something he ever wanted to think about. Sokka’s focus went back to Zuko, it was the first and only picture that showed how his hair looked all the way down. It was pushed all to one side and it looked heavy and reached his elbows. He was combing through it with a hand and wrist that looked bruised badly and turns out the hickeys from the earlier slide went down further than it had any right to. He was skinnier in the picture than the Zuko Sokka was familiar with. That kid would have snapped like a twig if he tried to pick Sokka up. Sokka could feel strong muscle through Zuko’s clothes when he was that close, he wondered how long it took to build it. There was one thing about Jet that Sokka does let himself take in and it’s a dark bruise that took up the majority of his right eye and onto his nose. He had a toothpick between his teeth and his smile looked more sinister than anything else. The little blue dots at the bottom signaled more slides, but Sokka didn’t press further once he read the caption. “My lawyer just emailed these to me.” Followed by another upside-down smiley face.

The comments read:

__aanngg_: Hand?_

_leaf_me_al0ne: I’ll text you._

Sokka decided he had seen enough and handed the phone back to Aang after he had swiped out of Instagram.

Fuck the car, he was probably just seeing things.

_-_

Zuko drove until Phoenix and Sokka couldn’t sleep. They stopped for lunch at ten and they moved on by noon. Aang made it another three hours and got them to Wilcox. It was only three pm.

Katara pushed them through Arizona and New Mexico. Without a second thought, they made it to El Paso as the sun dipped back down past the horizon. Maybe they could still make it. Sokka was rested and next on the round anyway. They stopped at the first Coffee Bean they saw. Zuko ordered a black iced coffee as if he hadn’t just boiled the water for black tea, which he chased the large iced coffee with.

Sokka managed two and a half hours before the pain got the best of him and the caffeine rush got the best of Zuko.

"Drive with me?" He had asked as Sokka began to unfasten his seatbelt.

"What?"

"I mean, you can go back and rest again if you need," Zuko insisted, holding up his hands in defense. "But driving with Toph wasn't exactly ideal. I mean, it's hard driving at night with only one good eye between two people-"

"Okay."

"That's fine?"

"Yeah," Sokka tossed him the keys. "I like spending time with you. The Co-captain thing is just a bonus."

Another 2 and half hours get them to Dryden. It’s midnight and they switch again.

Sokka gets them to eagle pass. It’s two AM and the lanes go faster than he could have imagined. Only forty-five minutes, something near unheard of.

They made it through easy. Zuko climbed into the back with Toph and Katara while Aang made his way to the passenger side. _License. Registration. An adult is driving._

No rich kids stowed away, absolutely not. 

Sokka felt he had some drive left in him, a few more hours couldn’t hurt, especially since Aang went back to sleep as soon as the cross was over and let Zuko take the spot that was rightfully his.

Sokka learned Zuko knew enough Spanish to order Starbucks. Without so much as asking, he got something overly sweet for Sokka and something horrifically bitter for himself. He drank it hot as if it wasn’t eighty degrees at night. 

The jittering kicked in fifteen minutes after three AM and they were restless. They found a campground instead of a hotel. They found a spot with a view.

It was four AM and they couldn’t sleep.

They did that to themselves.

Zuko had changed his clothes. Ridding himself of the shorts, tragically, and replacing them with gray joggers and a shirt Sokka hadn’t seen before but it’s so obviously Zuko that’s he’s not surprised he owns it.

It was an old t-shirt repping the logo for the musical Phantom of the Opera with _The Majestic Theater_ in gold script underneath. There was distress along the hems and arms with holes patched with red thread that was almost unnoticeable with the bleach spirals along his chest and back. It looked like it had gone through the wringer, but Zuko still did everything to make it presentable no matter what. That sounded eerily familiar. 

Zuko checked his reflection in the mirror.

“For a guy who hasn’t slept in three days, you look fantastic.” 

Zuko turned around and looked at Sokka. His hair was still sort of standing up at points and Sokka crossed the distance to fix it. Like he always did. Because it was easy and Zuko liked it.

_Zuko knew basic Spanish and drank his coffee black. Zuko liked the Phantom of the Opera enough to keep a shirt from it longer than he should have._

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“I’m not fixing your ponytail, I wouldn't know how you like it.”

“Firstly, it’s a wolf tail,” Sokka corrected. “And it’s easy. Just pull it up and back.”

“I haven’t had short hair since I was thirteen. Other than now, I guess. But _long_ is relative.”

“Did you cut it pretty recently?” Zuko nodded but didn't go to say anything else. Sokka thought it best to shift the subject. “Do you miss it?”

Zuko hesitated for an answer. “I’m not sure if I miss it yet. I’ve kinda been in this weird fugue state where nothing feels normal for the last… month. Hair is just... I try not to think too hard about it.”

“I kinda get that. Not the way you feel it but-”

“You get it?” The way he asked sounded almost desperate. Sokka put his hands on Zuko's shoulders and held him steady.

“Yeah, like we said earlier. I’ve been worse. Been better.”

“Yeah. It’s just you’re the first person to even say that. Let alone mean it.”

“How do you feel right now?”

“Do you need to know?”

Sokka hesitated. He did. He did need to know. He needed to know everything. He needed to know why Jet changed him and what he told his father and why he cut his hair. “Not need but-”

“Want?” Sokka nodded. It was easier to say that he wanted more than he needed. It was easier to say that Zuko was _Hot_ instead of admitting that Zuko was _Home._

It felt too good to realize that.

“I feel like I’m almost normal, but not in the way I had hoped to be," Zuko looked up at him. "I want to say I feel like myself but I don’t even know who or what the hell I am anymore.”

_You're a lot of things, Z. I want to know every single one._

“We should probably get some sleep.” Sokka said instead, rubbing a hand along Zuko's jaw.

“You’re right.”

“I’m glad it was you who drove with me and not Katara.”

“Why?”

“Well, think about it. Twelve straight hours with my little sister or twelve straight hours with you,” Sokka said. “I love my sister but, come on-”

_“Yeah.”_

“I get tired.”

_“Okay.”_

It’s quiet again, because it always got quiet. Sokka hated it when it got quiet. But Zuko didn't seem to mind it. “Sleep?”

“Yes, you’re…" Zuko was sputtering and his face was red. His eyes darted around, looking for something to settle on. Sokka wished he could read Zuko's mind to know what got him worked up like that. "You’re absolutely… _We should sleep.”_

They ended up falling back asleep in the front seats of Appa the Second. Zuko was curled in on himself again and Sokka made a futile effort to sprawl out. When Zuko took notice, he carefully reached for Sokka's legs and brought both of them onto his lap with so little as a look.

"Thanks," Sokka said as he got comfortable against the cool window. "Give me your hand?"

Zuko thought for a moment, before meeting Sokka halfway. Sokka ran his thumb along his pulse point and across his wrist. The skin was soft and his veins were a barely-there purple. He traced along the expanse of Zuko's palm, pressing hard enough to disperse the blood. He watched as his touch turned Zuko's hand pale before filling with warmth and life again a second later. 

"Sokka?"

He reminded him of her.

"Yeah?"

"I..." Zuko hesitated, neither of them spoke above a whisper. "Just saying it... I think."

Sokka brought Zuko's palm to his lips. His hands were warm and already familiar. He pressed a kiss and Zuko caressed his jaw. His thumb ran over his cheekbone and into the line of buzzed hair.

Sokka grabbed hold of his hand again, pressed another kiss. 

"You realize I'm not letting go, right?" Sokka asked into his palm. "Can't help it. I'm a cuddler but this car doesn't exactly make that easy."

It was hard to tell in the dark, but Zuko's eyes looked glassy. Distant. "I'm not gonna stop you." He said before looking back down at Sokka's legs in his lap. He patted his knee and looked back up at Sokka. A tight-lipped smile stretched over his face. 

It didn't meet his eyes.

"So this is fine?" Another kiss to his pulse point. "This is okay?" And another, on the lowest knuckle of his thumb.

"No more than this." Zuko wasn't looking at him, his gaze still turned down. Maybe he was just convincing himself, but why? Why couldn't they have more? Why couldn't he scoop Zuko out from his chair and kiss him like he deserved? 

_You're home for me. Why can't I be home for you?_

He answered his own question.

_Golden eyes on a billboard._

"Goodnight, Zuko." He said. Because it was easier than asking why.

"Goodnight, Sokka."

_-_

He dreams and it's cold. Like always. It's always so _fucking_ cold. He dreams of the village that was on his closet doors. Of the walkways of snow, the parapets of ice. He dreams of a pond in a forest and a moon surrounded by swimming koi fish because sometimes dreaming is easier and sometimes he couldn't see the moon due to a canopy of leaves in a campground in Mexico.

“It’s always so cold,” Sokka said to whoever decided to listen as he looked down into the water. “You could’ve painted a beach or something.”

There was no response. That was fine. Responses were more of a sometimes thing. He had had the dream before, and he couldn't control it enough to have it often. But he knew the routine. So, he kept talking.

“I know this is a dream, and I know that in like twenty seconds it’s going to switch to me falling off a mountain or I’m going to dream that I’m showing up to school naked or something. But it would be awesome if you talked back this time.”

There’s a weird spark that flashed in the water. It's the only thing red in a sea of blues blacks and silvers. It’s right over the moon.

“You don’t miss me,” Yue’s dreamy voice said. “You miss loving someone.”

“Don’t say that," Every rational part of Sokka knew there was no use in correcting her. She was gone and it was a dream. She was gone and it was his own subconscious talking. She was gone. She was gone. She was gone. "Of course I miss you.”

“It’s been a year.” Her voice echoed around him, always so goddamn all-consuming.

“Not a full year yet. It won’t be until December,” He stopped himself. His thoughts drifted back to Zuko. The golden-eyed boy only a few feet in front of him. He could wake up and Zuko would be right there. His dream almost shifted to something else. Somewhere dark and warm with heavy panting and lips. He spoke up as the scene shifted back into familiarity. “I’m moving too fast.”

“Do you love him?” Yue's spirit said. That time localized in the water below him.

“I-”

_“All of him?”_

“I can't place why he reminds me of you so much.” He stopped himself again. A flash of warm and dark. Hands over his body. Lips on his. Then ice again.

"Are you scared."

"What is there to be scared of?"

"Losing someone again..." Her voice had grown soft and distant. He had to focus to hear. "Not being loved back."

"I don't love him."

"Then, how do you feel?"

_Hot. I feel hot._

Sokka opened his eyes to the real world when the heat of the sun and the consistent knocking on glass, steel, and aluminum became unavoidable.

"Don't knock on the glass," He whined towards whoever had interrupted. "What is this? A fucking zoo?"

"You're not supposed to knock on the glass at a zoo either, Sokka." He peeked one eye open to see his sister on the other side of the window upside down. She wore a t-shirt that Sokka was about 99% sure actually belonged to Aang. Large white block letters over mustard yellow background read: EARTH NEEDS A GOOD LAWYER. Paired with high waisted shorts and her hair half up with a weirdly familiar blue bandana.

Sokka looked up from his spot, his back flat against the driver's side seat and legs draped over the passenger side. A stunning lack of Zuko's lap beneath his calves. "Yeah, because if you break the glass at a zoo, the animals could come and get you. Take that as a warning and let me get like, fifteen more minutes."

"Or, it's to keep the animals safe," Katara knocked again, the sound echoed ofter the fake leather and hard plastic. "Family meeting. Now."

_Oh shit._

Something felt nice in hearing Katara refer to them as family. And by them he meant Zuko. It made the thoughts a little easier to process. On the other hand, it was the scariest thing to possibly wake up to.

Sokka hobbled his way out of the car to find Aang, Zuko, and Toph sitting on a long log in front of the beginnings of a campfire pit. None of them looked exactly innocent and Sokka immediately panicked. Something had to have happened when he was asleep.

Aang was the only one who had dressed for the day, wearing an orange baseball cap backward, tan cargo shorts, a Patagonia t-shirt, and Birkenstocks. 

Anyone with half a brain could tell it was Aang's trip and the others just tagged along. Katara managed to be a perfect fit though. With her hiking boots, hair out of the way, and accusing look while clutching her bag of Bear Naked Triple Berry granola like a weapon.

_Wait a minute._

"What did you do?" Sokka pointed an accusing finger at Aang only to then feel hands around his chest as he was slowly lowered to the ground to sit with them. "If I have to give you the talk-"

"What?" Aang gasped. "No. Katara? And me? No, we didn't. I didn't-"

"You're not helping your case, buddy." Zuko patted a few times on Sokka's shoulder to get his attention. 

"Sokka-" Zuko tried to but in, but Sokka continued.

"There's only one bed, and I know no one else has slept in it yet but-"

"Not what it's about," Zuko said patting his back once more.

Sokka looked around the campsite, there was nothing really amiss. He thought back to his dream and the warmth and the hands that only felt like milliseconds but, he _did_ wake up at what felt like high noon. So, maybe his memory of the actual length of time spent in those moments was...skewed.

"Did I talk in my sleep or something?" He whispered into Zuko's ear. "Did I make it weird or-"

"What would have made it weird?"

Sokka could feel himself blushing and turned his attention back to Katara, who had rustled through the van's mini-fridge and was pulling items out to sit in front of them.

"Nevermind."

"We have rules for a reason, guys," She started after she got the last apparently offensive brown paper bag out of the car. "What the hell is this?"

The four looked at each other. Zuko and Aang shared suspiciously guilty glances while Toph's gaze stayed trained ahead.

"How should I know?" She said and waved a hand in front of her eyes. Her once light khaki shorts and green deep-sided sleeved t-shirt already managed to amass a suspicious amount of dirt on them.

"They look like grocery bags to me." Aang offered with a smile as he fiddled with the spare frayed strings off the many pockets of his shorts.

"Did we forget to unpack something?" Zuko asked as he crossed his ankles and leaned into Sokka's shoulder innocently. He had changed into a pair of Sokka's basketball shorts but had kept the swirling Phantom shirt on from the night before. His hair nearly covering his eyes.

"I'm... confused," Sokka admitted, looking up to his sister. "And I'm guessing I didn't have anything to do with this. I should probably be chastising them for whatever it is they did too."

Katara huffed and knelt down, affronting them with the items one by one.

A bottle of Prosecco.

A set of mini Smirnoff bottles.

An eighth.

A book titled: Animals of America; A Visual Encyclopedia of Amphibians, Reptiles, and Mammals, in the United States, Canada, and South America, with over 350 illustrations.

Well, _someone_ had their priorities straight.

"In my defense," Aang began. "I was in the craft department and I didn't know what they were doing most of the time."

"Yeah, I know, Sweety-" She started, only to be cut off by four equally surprised:

_"Sweety?"_

"But I'm just saying if someone had a drug deal in a Walmart parking lot..." Katara shouldered on. "We made the rules two days ago! How can you break the _no illegal activity_ rule? It was the easiest one not to break!"

"It's not illegal _now,"_ Toph defended as she crossed her legs. "I mean, we've got two perfectly healthy adult 18-year-olds, right here. I bet one of them will fess up-"

"I'm not the one who complained about Malibu," Zuko countered. "You're sixteen. Why do you even have a preference already?"

"It's not like you were getting drunk off of Malibu when you were sixteen, Sparky. You had money. You had options."

"People with options and actual taste wouldn't buy mini Smirnoff bottles. And, you have money too!"

"They're like mini shots."

"It's not a mini shot. It's a normal-sized shot."

"See!?" Toph pointed at Zuko, her blank gaze still forward. "Zuko already knew they were shots and actually has a drinking preference. It's his booze, Sugar Queen. Not mine."

Katara crossed her arms over her chest. "That doesn't stop the fact that someone apparently had a drug deal at WALMART! Do you know how trashy that is?"

"Yeah, of course, I know how trashy that is," Toph agreed. "That's why _someone_ got it from the dispensary across the street."

"Well, you didn't walk there alone, Toph." Katara accused.

"You're right, _I_ didn't. Because someone went, and I never said it was me." Toph nodded before sparring a glance between the three of them. Sokka held up his hands in defense.

"I was probably in the van by then." 

"No, you were in the coffee and tea aisle with Zuko."

It got quiet as everyone connected the dots.

"Aang?" Katara said, dangerously calm. "Did you break the don't do anything illegal rule before you broke the don't bring an animal in the van rule?"

"Toph broke it," Aang hesitated. "I just...walked her there. I also got CBD, but that was medical."

"You know what aiding and abetting is, right?"

"Let the kid be," Sokka intervened. "You said, it was Aang's trip. Meaning he should be able to make the calls. We do what makes him happy. If the kid says he wants to get stoned, I say we go for it. In a healthy and monitored way. I'll even be the high babysitter."

"That doesn't change the fact that-" Katara started, only to be swiftly interrupted by Sokka.

"If you've gotten high before and wouldn't mind doing it again to jumpstart our little adventure, raise your hand." Sokka shot his own hand up at the end of his sentence and waited.

Toph was the first to join him. Then Zuko and Aang.

"Sokka this isn't-"

"Put your hand up, Katara," Reluctantly, her hand rose, an arm still crossed over her chest. "See? A rule that we all agree wasn't going to work out for us in the first place."

They make an amendment. Rules were a stretch already, and more so suggestions. _It would be great if they could avoid secrets. If you could not do anything too illegal, that'd be neat._ Katara made the call, _if a rule is broken, you go up on the corkboard. The more rules broken, the more you have to pay for._

The first _wanted poster_ was a polaroid of Aang and Toph smiling. Katara wrote _Rule Number 2 in blocky script._ Sokka carved _Wanted_ into the fake wood frame. Zuko detailed the crime on a post-it note, using dramatic details and flowing prose.

_Zuko wanted to be a playwright. Zuko had nice handwriting. Zuko blushed when complimented and if Sokka kept going, his pupils would dilate. Zuko's favorite playwright was Anton Chekov. Sokka made a promise to look him up._

The day turned into early evening faster than they all expected. They wandered around the campground, familiarizing themselves with the woods surrounding them. Toph held onto Katara for balance and sight while Aang held Katara's hand because he could. Then there they were. Always a few feet behind, eyes trained a few feet ahead.

_Zuko quit boy scouts when he was still a child to do ballet. Zuko hadn't gone camping in years, the last time being with his mother. Zuko liked green teas and black coffees. Zuko had a piercing and at least one tattoo and had an undercut at one point. Zuko liked theater and being called Baby and holding hands. Zuko knew some very basic first aid and all the lyrics to Cemetary Drive by My Chemical Romance. Zuko could beat him at skipping rocks and asked him to button his shirts._

Well, Zuko hadn't asked. Sokka offered. He'd hope that there would be a next time when Zuko would be the one to ask.

Early evening went by fast and night approached faster. The fight they were going to attend was an hour out from the campsite and they had forty minutes before they had to leave if they were going to make it, get snacks, and sit at a reasonable spot.

They took turns bathing with a pump with their clean water supply, as none of them were quite committed to jumping in a lake to wash that night. Sokka had taken the second to last shift. His hair was still wet and his jeans clung to his skin. His t-shirt was a fairly simple gag gift that his father had gotten him, probably from one airport or another that read: _What Part Of (foiled out math problem that Sokka tried explain how it wasn't even that difficult it just looked like it because of all the steps) Don't You Understand?_

Zuko had barely looked at it before training his eyes back up at Sokka.

Zuko was shorter. Not by a lot. Just enough that when they were close enough to breathe in each other's air, he'd have to look up to meet his eyes.

Sokka had only adjusted the familiar white button-up with swirling maroon designs scattered around, a little too distracted by Zuko's bare chest underneath and his open fly and button undone.

Sokka was buttoning his shirt.

"How high do you want me to go?" Sokka asked, finally regaining his bearings and forcefully pulling his eyes away from the unfairly defined abs underneath his fingers.

“Third button down.”

_“Ooh, scandalous.”_

Zuko laughed, head turning just enough that their eyes wouldn't meet but still enough for Sokka to remember the cute mole at the top of Zuko's jaw that he wanted to kiss. That's all he wanted. “If I button it to the top while I’m wearing my hair up, I look like I went to private school.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah, Chaeryu Academy. Boarding school," Zuko confided. "Doesn’t mean I have to look like it.”

“That’s why I never saw you around until Aang,” Sokka looked up, hands stilling on the button only one higher than the one he had started on. “I would have remembered you.”

“I doubt that,” Zuko said. “If you only noticed me because of the shorts the first time, then I doubt you would have even looked at me then.”

“I don’t know, the emo thing you had going on was kinda hot too.”

Zuko froze, his gaze trained somewhere in the distance before he turned to meet Sokka's eyes again. “How would you know?”

Sokka hesitated. He could have said that it was obvious. Zuko looked like he would be the type. Zuko had the hair for it and the music taste for it. Sokka couldn't come up with a cover in time before Zuko continued, his chest falling. “You looked, didn’t you…”

“I was just curious-”

“How far back did you go?”

“I…” Sokka sighed, dropping his gaze back down to focus on the buttons and not on the skin. “I saw your main one with your parents and sister.”

_“Not that one.”_

“I stopped around the picture of you and Jet?” Sokka said it like a question. He wasn't sure why. He felt like he was asking for permission to bring up anything. Like Zuko would break if Sokka said the wrong thing. Like _he had been breaking_ when Sokka said the wrong thing.

_I just want to know everything about you._

Zuko laughed, it almost sounded bitter, his gaze dropping back down to Sokka's hands too. He reached in between them and grabbed Sokka by the wrists and moved his hands up no more than an inch to the next button. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Not for you,” Sokka teased, because teasing felt safe. “Now I have to say that the guy that I think is hot likes anime.”

Zuko looked up, his smile was back and Sokka wanted to kiss him but he knew better than to aim for the lips. “Perfect Blue is a fantastic fucking movie," Zuko insisted. "Requiem for a Dream took inspiration from it for the cinematography.”

“If you say so.”

“I’m gonna make you watch it with me next time we have a steady internet connection.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

They parted when Sokka finished the last button and Zuko tucked his shirt in. His hands stayed into his waistband for a moment as he looked at Sokka in thought. His bottom lip worried between his teeth. “Did you... uh..." He shook his head and tucked the rest of his shirt in and doing his fly up before futzing with the fabric so it would fall correctly. Sokka just watched. "Did you read any of the captions on them?” Sokka shook his head no. _“Good.”_ Zuko hummed and crossed his arms over his chest. "That's good."

“Why?”

“Just usual spam ranting shit," He defended. "Nothing to worry about. The Jet pictures weren't even what I was talking about earlier. Day saved once again by Jet. He'd love that sort of thing.”

“The one in bed?” Sokka asked, following Zuko around the back of the car. “And then the other ones…”

“That was blackmail," Zuko said it like that was a normal sentence for him. He barely looked over his shoulder as he said it. "Things from Jet’s phone that made it into my father’s lawyer’s hands and then into my lawyer’s,” 

“They were good pictures though," He continued. "And it wasn’t like they’d be brought up in court anyway but it freaked me out just having… Just _knowing_ that they knew. Jet was pissed but he knew it came with the territory.” At the last second, Zuko turned back around. A few feet away was the rest of the gang, outside of their little home on wheels. The space behind a panel of steel aluminum and plastic was all they had. Yet Sokka always felt so alone with him.

Alone didn't feel like the right word, but it was all he could fathom when the sounds of the others muted themselves.

“Oh.” They were close again, and it was quiet. They were always close and it was always quiet.

“Like I said,” Zuko took another step back. “Bad track record. It’s not a big deal. Anyway, ready to head out? _”_

Sokka took a moment before reaching his hand out. Zuko's hand was in his without much of a second thought. “Which one of us is driving?”

“You saw me when I was in traffic," He said with a smile. "I think you should.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Sokka agreed but things didn't feel quite right yet. “Zuko?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry, if I… broke your trust with that,” Sokka sighed. “I know it’s something really small and kinda trivial to _me,_ but if it was something you didn’t want me to see or know and now I’ve seen it and know it I-”

“Quite a way with words, buddy,” Zuko said and took a step into him.

“I know it’s stupid and… and you just talk to me about _everything._ Everything you're comfortable with saying at least. And I just keep digging because I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop but you’re just… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize," Zuko insisted. Something passed through his eyes that Sokka couldn't recognize. "Like I said it’s not a big-”

“People do this to you all the time don’t they?” Zuko nodded, slow, but open. He didn't pull away and Sokka hated being right with him like that. “So let me pity myself and feel like shit for breaking that with you. And I just like you so much, dude and-”

“Sokka, stop,” Sokka does and Zuko looked stern. He turned both their hands so they were both palm up. “We’re friends, remember?”

_“Yeah, but-”_

“So it’s not a big deal. Because if, _somehow,_ I get another message from my father with anything that is associated with you, it’ll become a much _bigger_ deal,” Zuko said through a tight-lipped smile brought their hands into their eye-line. He held Sokka's hand from behind, cradling his fingers. “You’re amazing and funny, and a really good friend. You’ve been nothing but kind, at least to my face, which is already more than I could ever ask for-”

“Okay,” Sokka interrupted. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Right.” Sokka reached up and cupped Zuko’s jaw. Ran a hand through his still wet and shiny hair. Twirled his finger in a strand behind his ear. Zuko turned his head just enough to press a kiss onto his thumb. Eyes fluttering closed.

Sokka pulled him into a hug. He could feel Zuko's heartbeat in polyrhythm with his own. Zuko buried his head in the crook of Sokka's shoulders and wrapped his arms around his torso, pulling them impossibly close yet still not close enough.

Sokka pressed a kiss to the top of his head, something that had felt too intimate and familial just a few days before. It didn't feel like he was doing enough at that moment. So he kissed again at the top of his head, ran a hand through his hair, kissed again on his forehead, tilted his head up.

_No more than this._

_No more than this._

_No more than-_

"Hey," Sokka said, his hands still on Zuko's face. His thumbs rubbing over high cheekbones and a sharp jaw.

"Hi," Zuko whispered, but he was smiling. Not laughing, but smiling. Barely speaking, but smiling. "Sokka we can't-"

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

_"I know."_

"This is fine but-"

 _"I know, baby. I know,"_ Sokka dropped his hands to Zuko's shoulders. The ache in his ankle had returned and his head felt airy and he needed all the balance he could get. “Actually, let's make Katara drive. We can...”

"On the way back?"

"Yeah."

"Sounds good."

"We should g-"

“Right, yeah," Zuko stepped back, breaking the contact. "We should.”

The drive to the venue marked the first time Zuko and Sokka had to share the bed. They were comfortable with each other, things weren't weird. Things weren't different. It was just...

Easy? It felt easy...

Zuko had said that word when he crawled the distance of bed to join Sokka near the windows. _It was easier if they were close. It was safer if they were close._ They had closed the curtains and the usually twinkling lights above them sat static. Katara had said it was distracting to drive with them on. As if having Toph pick her nose and fling them in dangerously vague directions wasn't the main source of her swerving.

Zuko sat beside him, their legs tangled in a way that only tricked Sokka into keeping his leg elevated. Only because the elevation was on the pillow of Zuko's thigh and everytime they turned a harsh corner, both of them had to put their arms out against the side walls. The counter pressure only pushed them closer. 

Sokka's phone was playing aloud, going through his Uncomfortable playlist. Technically, _their Uncomfortable playlist._ Which only made the predicament that much well... uncomfortable.

_Not in the sexy way._

Zuko braced his knee into the wall to keep the two of them as steady as possible during an aggressive left turn. Leaving his legs sprawled open, with one still being caught between Sokka's grip from both his free hand and his legs.

They shared a look. Sokka could feel his face heating and could see the blush dusted over Zuko's shocked expression.

_Perhaps maybe by chance in a sexy way._

They both shifted back into semi-neutral positions. But, Sokka's hand was still gripping Zuko's thigh through tight black jeans, and Zuko's arm was still wrapped around his waist, acting as a seatbelt.

Sokka barely had the chance to scan ahead through the songs on shuffle before Lonely Eyes by The Front Bottoms began.

 **_You've got me stuck to where I'm sitting_  
** **_Looking at your eyes._  
** **_And I know I'm so pathetic,_  
** **_I wouldn't move to save my life._  
** **_And they tell me that you're lonely, it's no surprise_  
** **_When you walk around all day wearing those lonely, lonely eyes._ **

When Sokka looked back to his right he saw that Zuko was busying himself reading over their tickets and a description of the event for Toph.

 _"-y con reglas peligrosamente flexibles...uhm...los peleadores combaten... uh... Oh,"_ Zuko looked between Sokka and Aang, something hauntingly excited and a little dangerous behind his eyes. "Aang, you're going to _hate_ this."

So, by default, Sokka LOVES it.

The venue was separated into quadrants, each one bathed in moody neons of green, blue, red, and yellow. The benched seats were made out of splintering birch and the floor was a sticky concrete. The ring sat in the middle, squared off by green ropes. A logo displaying the phrase _Estrunendo de la Tierra Seis_ looked like it was spraypainted into the ring. The translations from Zuko, Toph, and the bottom of the neon green signs in a scratched out white called it Earth Rumble Six.

The snacks they got were spicy, the energy was high, Toph and Zuko were almost buzzing with excitement. The two fluttered back and forth with Zuko describing everything he saw and Toph dragging him around to find the best spot acoustics wise. If she couldn't see the pain she wanted to hear the screams.

Which was what concerned Aang. Violence had always been a _thing_ with him. He was peaceful for the most part. There were a few bullies at school, nothing particularly over the top, just big guys with big bravados. Big guys that Sokka usually was the one to fight, even though Katara could hold her own against them too. Big guys who picked on smaller people, that was the only time Aang came in and handed their asses to them. Aang was a fighter in every sense of the word.

But violence?

"Is that a bloodstain?" Aang leaned over to Sokka. "Right there, the edge of the ring, furthest to the left."

Sokka squinted, training his eyes in the direction Aang had said. "Oh yeah... _A couple of them."_

"Okay..." Aang leaned forward, putting all his weight into his elbows on his knees and pulled his hat lower on his eyes. "Good to know."

"You know we can leave whenever you need, right?" Katara offered a comforting hand to Aang's shoulder.

"I'll be fine."

"I should hope so, Twinkletoes," Toph jeered, but she punched him lightly in the shoulder so _apparently_ that meant there was no malice behind it. "I've been wanting to come to one of these for _years."_

Toph and Zuko sat in the row behind them. Zuko had said it was because of their clear view to the center ring, with a convenient row of shorter people in front of them. And Sokka agreed that it was a vantage point of height. The perfect spot, center and up, the speakers a safe several feet away. And with Sokka in front, it made things easier if they were to stand up because Zuko would still be able to see past him.

The whole _leaning back into Zuko's wide legs and using his thighs as armrests_ thing was just a benefit. Having Zuko lean in really close when he wanted to say anything was easier than having him shout over several people.

They weren't being subtle, but why be subtle when nothing was happening?

Bros could do that. Bros could tilt other bros' heads back and cup his jaw in his hands with a very focused look as they talked about stupid shit like which wrestling matches they stayed up late to watch on pay-per-view when they were children and how if he got really close he could see the abandoned nostril piercing that the shorter bro with gold eyes had that would have looked so fucking hot if he still had it.

And sometimes Bros got lost in each other's eyes until the announcer signals the beginning of the warmup match while everyone else erupted into cheers. 

And sometimes a man that had no right to be so attractive with arms the size of tree trunks that one Bro, in particular, couldn't help but imagine being choked out by the man while the other Bro got just a little bit jealous at the attention he once had solely devoted to him, switch to that of... _The Boulder_ apparently. 

At least that's what Sokka felt what Zuko's vice grip on his shoulders and abrupt disinterest in the fight meant.

“You got quiet, Snoozles. Even Zuko seems a little shocked,” Toph said with a nudge to Zuko that Sokka wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn't been between his legs already. “I didn’t know that was something you could do.”

“We’re appreciating the sport,” Katara said, her eyes had been glued to the wrestler too. “They look like they’d be really good fighters.”

Aang took notice of that in a way that two people who were certainly not dating should have noticed.

But Zuko leaning forward, wrapping his arms around Sokka's neck in a hug and blowing hot breath against his ear was justified and platonic and an absolute _Bro mood._

“What’s gotten into you?” Zuko asked his lips weren't grazing the cusp of Sokka's ear but the very well may have been.

If he had had a bi panic while on a date with Suki to the movies where they both enjoyed Captain America and Agent Carter a little too much, then what Sokka was experiencing at that moment was a fucking existential crisis.

 _“He is just so…”_ Sokka started, unsure whether he was talking about The Boulder, who was pulling his very thin shirt over his head and stretching in tight-fitting shiny pants. Or Zuko, who was one step away from wrapping his legs around Sokka's waist.

“Oily?” Aang asked.

“Manly?” Katara suggested.

Sokka finally looked back at The Boulder. _“My type…”_

“Careful heart eyes,” Katara laughed. “Your face will freeze like that.”

Zuko pulled away from him and Sokka almost whines at the loss of friendly, Bro, ' _totally not a little turned on'_ contact. “He looks like a horrible fighter.”

“You’re just saying that cause you're jealous.” Sokka teased, looking over his shoulder at Zuko who had draped himself onto the row of benches behind him, resting both arms on top of them and letting his head tilt back, exposing his adam's apple.

 _You son of a bitch you know exactly what you're doing and you know nothing will happen so WHY ARE YOU DOING IT?_ Was it a challenge? Zuko didn't seem the type but at the same time, he _totally_ did. He was just posturing. Like a peacock who was flashy for flashy's sake. Shirt unbuttoned to the third, his collarbones were pronounced and his hair was messy and his pants were tight and-

"I'm not jealous." Zuko hinted.

"I'm..." Sokka started as his throat went dry. "Confused?" 

_Zuko didn't like being second even though he had just told him being first wasn't an option either._

Zuko sighed and went back to sitting like a normal person and not someone that Sokka would be doing his damndest to not dream about as soon as they made it back to camp. Zuko did that on his own, so it was a difficult concept for Sokka. “I’m just saying it because he’s totally on steroids.”

“What’s he look like?” Toph asked as she kicked her feet onto the railing right near Aang’s head. He sat so low in the seat he probably didn’t even notice. 

“Tall, probably pushing 6’5”,” Zuko started, gaze flitting between The Boulder and Toph. “Veiny, muscular, has the type of smile you’d want to slap off his face.”

“So, a douchebag?”

“In so few words.”

“I’d let him kick my ass any day of the week,” Sokka swooned because he was curious and wanted to see if maybe he had just imagined it or maybe...Zuko fell into his trap and pulled close again. 

“Has anyone ever told you how easy you are?”

“I’m not easy,” Sokka defended. “I just think fighters are really inspirational and strong and are fucking _stacked.”_

Zuko looked back at the stage as they finished setting up for the round, “I could probably beat him.”

_“What?”_

“He looks like he’d be slow. Break his stance and he’d be on the ground. A hit to the head that’s hard enough would keep him there. Use his weight against him, flow where he's steady,” Zuko spoke about it like a strategist, and Sokka got butterflies. Honest too god, teenage crush, _butterflies._

“I used to be a fighter," Zuko admitted. "Never wrestling, but I did martial arts. Northern Shaolin Kung Fu.”

“What happened to ballet?” Sokka asked.

“I told you,” Zuko shrugged. “I quit when I was ten.”

“You’re-”

“ _Really inspirational and strong and fucking stacked?”_

“Making me uncomfortable," Sokka cautioned flitting his has eyes down to his lap. "Like... _really uncomfortable."_

"I- _Oh,"_ Zuko's jaw dropped for a moment and stuttered, trying to think of something to say as red tinged his ears. After a few more seconds of admittedly adorable shock, he bit his bottom lip and nodded. A small smile slipping through. _“Okay.”_

Zuko’s hands were back on Sokka’s shoulders and he instinctually pressed a kiss along the knuckles. It's the most chaste one they had shared. It was a peck. Closer to the simple act of skin on skin with no intended weight to it. It could have passed off as an accident.

Zuko nudged Sokka to get his attention away from the beginning of the fight. Once Sokka looked over, he lifted his hand from his shoulder, just enough to show that it was tremoring.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," He put his hand back down. "It's a thing that happens when I'm over-excited. Or when my heart rate spikes."

"Did I do that, baby?" Sokka asked half genuine curiosity, half to see what Zuko would do.

"Mhm," He nodded and flexed his fingers on Sokka's shoulder. "We... shouldn't."

"Why?"

"Circumstances."

They're both snapped out of their own little world by the sound of the ring, signaling the end of the warm-up sparring.

They were fully invested by the time the real fight had begun.

(Well, aside from a moment of sibling glares shot from Katara that practically screamed _What the hell did I tell you, Sokka?_ only for him to mime back _What? Nothing’s happening.)_

She should have been more focused on _her_ not boyfriend than _his_ not boyfriend.

Aang looked, sick. A chair would be broken over one of the fighters head and he'd wince. They'd smash fluorescent tubes over each other's head and Aang would gag. By the third round, he had covered his eyes, hat tilted up with how many times he had rubbed his hands over his face or messed with the cap just to keep his attention off the fight.

Sokka felt bad for enjoying it. The dramatics, the blood, the thrill. Zuko enjoyed himself too, screaming obscenities to the losers. Obviously, Toph was having the time of her life, but it was Aang's trip.

And Aang had his head between his legs and arms over his head as his leg bounced. Katara kept a comforting hand on his back, rubbing circles up and down and leaning in close to reassure that they could leave whenever he needed or wanted. She said that she needed to know if he was okay, or at the very least _wanted_ to.

The siblings locked eyes for a moment as the crowd died down.

They both had it so bad.

"Hey, I think we should call it a night," Sokka started, getting Zuko's and Toph's attention as the fanfare died down just enough to be heard. "It's getting kinda late and the fighting's all showy. None of it is real."

"Who cares if it's real?" Toph said, hugging tightly onto Zuko's arm. "It's so badass."

"She's right," Aang sat up. "It's fake. We can stay."

"It's okay if you-" Katara began, only to be cut off by Zuko.

"Aang, I need a breather," He said, pulling his grip away from Toph, but still holding onto her hand. "Come with me?"

"I said I'm-"

"Now," Aang hesitated, looking back and forth between the four of them. "Just a few minutes, I doubt you'll miss anything. _I_ just feel like _I'm_ suffocating in here."

"Zuko, I'm-"

"Remember when you stopped me from going home?" Zuko pressed. "You said it would only make things worse. And you were right, it was shit I wouldn't have wanted to see. I don't want to see this either."

"It's not that bad-"

"You walking out right now would be helping _me."_

That seemed to snap something in Aang. He stood up, waved off the others, and went outside with Zuko gently guiding him to the exit.

Katara and Sokka watched as the two left. Sokka offered his arm towards Toph, bumping it against her shoulder to get her attention, but she didn't reach.

"I shouldn't have made us come," Toph admitted as the cheering grew again. The Boulder had just taken a florescent beam to the face and his eye was bruised and bloody. "I knew he'd get like this but-"

"But what?" Katara prompted. "Why? If you know him so well why do you keep pushing him to do shitty thing after shitty thing?"

"Because I missed my friends!" Toph shouted over the noise. "I missed my friends and I missed living like a normal teenager and doing stupid things. I don't get that back home. None of us got that."

"Toph-" Katara began, reaching out, before the girl interrupted again.

"I know you guys barely tolerate me, but at least I'm more honest to who I am than those two are," A hallowed out sheet of drywall was smashed over one of the fighters heads. "We should leave. It was getting boring anyway."

They found Aang and Zuko by the van. The kid had calmed down significantly, but it was still so odd seeing Aang like that. He was closed in on himself, arms over his chest, not looking up at Zuko. Zuko stood above him, hands buried in his pockets and holding a water bottle that Aang took from him.

"-made it out," Zuko had said, looking over his shoulder to meet the approaching group. Mostly Sokka, then a quick flash to Katara before turning his attention back to Aang. "That's something."

Aang laughed, it almost sounded like his usual one but there was a weird edge to it. An edge that Sokka had only heard with Zuko before. To Sokka, Aang was the happy-go-lucky kid. Even when he was freaking out, like he had been then, he was still overwhelmingly bright. But just... off.

"I know," Aang agreed to whatever it was that Zuko said as the group reunited. Aang made a beeline to Katara a smile plastered on his face. "Hey."

"Hi," Katara stopped in front of him and offered a gentle smile. "We decided to leave."

Aang's smile began to falter, until Toph spoke up. "It got pretty vanilla for my taste," She said. "I feel like they were one more timeout away from a group hug. You would've loved that sort of thing, Twinkletoes,"

"Yeah, probably," Aang looked back at Zuko before closing the distance with Katara, she grabbed his hand and squeezed. "So... we ready to head back to camp?"

"Yeah," Zuko said as he went to pull the passenger side door open. "Sokka's driving."

_-_

Lonely Eyes played again as they pulled off onto the main streets. It got a questionable look from all in the car. Most noticeably Zuko.

"You played this already..." He said, looking out onto the open road. "You need to think about expanding the playlist."

"Well _sor-ry,"_ Sokka sassed, using his free hand to reach across and playfully swat at Zuko's chest. If it dropped back down to Zuko's knee then it wasn't like anyone would have noticed. "I've only got so much to work with."

"Does the 200 hours of songs in your likes mean nothing to you?"

"Nothing to _you,"_ Sokka corrected. "Playlists have to have a vibe, you know? The songs need to flow nicely. There needs to be meaning. It's gotta tell a story."

"I feel like you're overthinking it."

"I feel like you're _underthinking."_

Zuko paused, his lip worried between his teeth. "Tell a story, huh?" Sokka nodded. "True Care... what else?"

Sokka gestured to the radio as the words rang out:

_**Well, I try to tell you jokes** _  
_**I'm afraid you'd cry** _  
_**And if you need a little sunshine** _  
_**You could borrow some of mine** _  
_**It's okay if you're unhappy** _  
_**I would say before I leave her** _  
_**Just take a look around** _  
_**There's no one here that's happy either** _

“That felt..." Zuko paused, looking for the right words. _"Pointed."_

“It was pointed the first time,” Toph said from behind them. He hadn't even realized she was listening. But who was he kidding, of course she was listening. “That was _fucking obvious.”_

Once the song ended, playing through entirely with a scattering of scathing looks from Zuko, he reached for Sokka's phone in the cupholder between them. It faded into 

“What are you doing?” Sokka asked, tearing his gaze from the road for a moment to see Zuko try and unlock his phone.

“If I have to hear another Father John Misty song, I’m throwing myself out of the van.” He sighed after it buzzed incorrect for the third time. “What’s your passcode?”

Sokka's breath caught in his throat. It was just a series of numbers that would probably mean nothing, but he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. “It’s my thumb print," He said instead. Technically, it was. "I have a nosy dad and a little sister.”

“Hey!” Katara yelled from the back, but Aang's laugh dissuaded her anger.

“As do I, but it doesn’t really work to keep them out in the long run,” Zuko put his hand over top Sokka's, and in a move smoother than Sokka thought Zuko was capeable of, he intertwined their fingers and flipped their hands. He ran his own thumb against Sokka's and managed to extend it just enough to unlock his phone. With all the effort that it took, Sokka was a little hurt that after the phone was unlocked, Zuko let go. 

“You recognized Good Ol J Tillman pretty fast,” Sokka prompted. “That means you have to at least kinda know him.”

“I mean kinda. He did a cover of a song I like and he was in a music video I’d seen before,” If Sokka was a better person he would leave that be. He would acknowledge it and pass it off as nothing. But he wasn't a better person. He was a person who was just a little bit obsessed with everything Zuko was. And he was pretty sure he had just found out the answer to his Guilty Pleasure Question. He pulled onto the shoulder right before the entrance to the campgrounds and turned to face the other, slightly surprised and concerned teen. "What's happening?"

_"Zuko?_

_"I don't like the face you're making."_

"Why'd we stop?" Aang asked sitting up just enough from his lounged position in the bed.

“You wanna share with the class what that cover was?” Sokka prompted before a look of realization passed over Zuko's face. He pressed on before Zuko could find a defense. “Let me guess, your main image of him is when he’s taking acid on the beach with a certain melancholy singer with a raspy voice and a very specific style?”

Zuko bit his tongue and handed Sokka's phone back. _"Shut up."_

_“God, you make it so easy.”_

“Wait,” Aang spoke up, sitting up fully that time. “What’s happening?”

“Let me guess," Sokka started, as he unlocked his phone, only slightly acknowledging Zuko adding his own fingerprint to Sokka's phone with a quick glance. "You’re an Ultraviolence album guy?”

Zuko sunk in his seat, taking the seat belt with him. “Born to Die, actually.”

"I told you," Sokka laughed as the pieces finally came together. "Guilty pleasure stripper song. Like, 48 hours. _I told you!"_

“Just because Lana Del Rey is sort of a guilty pleasure doesn't mean-”

The church bells and strings of the intro was overtaken by _“Swinging in the backyard, pull up in your fast car whistling my name.”_

 _"Ah,"_ Zuko said in a small voice. _"Yeah..."_

"Hey, it's a cute song," Sokka defended as he draped his arm over Zuko's seat. "I feel like you could pull it off."

"Sokka-"

"I mean it."

"Please just drive."

"Different Lana Del Rey song."

_"Sokka-"_

"Okay, I'm done. I'm done."

They make it to camp and remember the rule that they broke. 

They set up a large fire, mostly done by Zuko. They bring out the lighter with the dragon engraved on it again. Zuko talked about how he missed his Uncle and a select few of his friends. Toph insisted she could compensate for Mai and Ty Lee with her fantastic personality. Zuko didn't disagree.

In a surprising turn of events, Aang rolls it for them. Suspisciouly skilled fingers like he had been doing it for decades. That wouldn't have surprised Sokka either. If reincarnation was real, Aang was probably the aftermath of some hippy with a grudge. That line of thought was only solidified when Katara realized "The craft section?"

Aang looked up sheepishly, as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "It's tracing paper."

"Is that safe?"

Aang shot Sokka a look, both of them remembering tracing paper and a green out off the pier. "Yeah," Aang insisted. "I've done it before."

"You've-"

_"No secrets, right?"_

No secrets and It makes a round. No secrets and Katara brings up Jet only to get a scoffed retaliation from Zuko. _Everyone hates Jet._ _He's nice sometimes, but everyone hates him._ No secrets, another round, and Zuko makes a rule that Jet can't be brought up for the rest of the night. No secrets and Toph feels bad for leaving her parents. No secrets and Zuko realizes he hadn't called Iroh. No secrets and Aang braids Katara's hair.

No secrets, another round, and Sokka lets it skip him. He says its the painkillers and how he probably shouldn't have smoked so much already. No secrets, another round, Zuko presses a kiss to his shoulder with them all watching. No secrets and Aang admitted he was terrified watching the fight, but can't find the words to say why. No secrets, and they start to get it.

No secrets: Katara wanted to see the world. She was bigger than the hand she was dealt.

No secrets: Toph deserved better, but that didn't mean she wasn't scared.

No secrets: Aang loved his foster home. He loved Gyatso like he was his father. But family wasn't really something he knew.

No secrets: Zuko knew _family_ and he hated it. Zuko knew _home_ and he hated it. Zuko was running.

Fleeing...Whatever he had said a few days before.

_Zuko had a black stud in his ear and liked grean teas and theater and Phantom and Lana Del Rey. Zuko's hands shook when he got excited and he had a tattoo with Japanese characters. Zuko liked the movie Perfect Blue and his favorite playwright was Chekhov. He preferred loose leaf teas, he liked blueberry pop-tarts, and knew Nothern Shalolin, and drank his coffee black. Zuko liked being called Baby._

Sokka kinda liked it too.

He was more sober than he wanted to be, but none of the others were holding back. It kept circling until there was near nothing left and Aang was ranting about eastern religions.

“I mean. There’s Krishna and Vishnu," He said with more passion in his voice than anyone his age should have mustered about such a topic. "There’s a total realistic possibility that I could be an Avatar too!”

“Okay,” Sokka let the roach be taken from him as Zuko took the final inhale and stubbed it out. “Now that Aang is getting _sacrilegious,_ I’m gonna call it.”

It got easy after that. Sokka still wanted to show Zuko a sky full of stars that he deserved. The canopy of trees above them obscured that, but he insisted Scorpius _should_ have been visible that night. They talk about the sky, about life, about fears, about each other. They laugh because laughing was easier than unpacking half the shit they had admitted too.

40 Day Dream started back up and Sokka couldn't help but glance back at Appa the Second. No silver SUV. It was a common car. It was a common-

“Who wants to bet me how long it’ll take until one of us snaps because of Snoozle’s music taste?” Toph asked as she held her hands up to the warmth of the fire.

“I like his music taste!” Aang defended with a general wave, not looking up from the intricate braids he had learned on the drive and testing those on Katara's hair. 

“Forty on three weeks.” Zuko smirked. Everything about him loose and easy. His hair went by it's own laws, some clinging to his neck and forehead and other strays on their very own mission. His shirt was unbottoned a little lower, exposing all the way down to a spot right above his naval.

As hot as Sokka found that image, and as much as he wanted to bask in that moment, the little jeer stung. So, of course, he'd defend his musical honor. “Hey I thought you liked my music!"

“Calm down, I only said forty. I could do more,” Zuko's eyes were half lidded as he lounged on the ground, legs bent at the knee and pants cuffed to his calves. “It’s what you get for the Lana Del Rey thing.”

“But I was right,” Sokka went onto his elbows to enter Zuko's space. He let one hand trail along Zuko's exposed chest, mostly with the intent of getting the attention of those big golden blown out eyes. “How’re you feeling, baby.”

Zuko shook his head and laughed. “Don’t do that.”

_“Why?”_

“Almost kissed you.”

“If I missed something and have to put you on the corkboard-” Katara warned from her almost identical spot in Aang's airspace.

Sokka pulled away and Zuko sat up just enough to look at her. “No,” Zuko said. “I said _almost.”_

“Yeah, Kat,” Sokka leaned back and matched Zuko’s posture, their shoulders rubbing together. “Besides, other than that hotel bed incident you guys have been _pretty_ touchy. Should I ask you about your intentions with my sister, Aang?”

“She’s really pretty,” Aang said, too far gone to manage much else. The poor kid probably deserved the numbness. Sokka would have to check on him once his own pleasant high faded and the rest of their over eagerness marched on until morning. 

“All of you are so gross," Toph complained, flicking a surprisingly aerodynamic booger into the flames. "If I knew it was a couples retreat I wouldn’t have tagged along.”

All of them said _“Not a couple.”_ At the same time, but Toph only cackled in response. "Whatever."

“You didn’t answer when I asked if you were okay.” Sokka asked once his and Zuko's backs were against the forest floor again. He couldn't look up to save his life as the leaves warped and shifted. Zuko's fidgety movements and swiping of his hands acted to ground him.

“I’m okay,” Zuko insisted, dropping his head to the side to meet his gaze. "Good. _Really good._ Wanna feel like this all the time."

"Why can't you?" Sokka asked and was met almost immediately with a gaze that showed him how that was the worst thing to say but also like it pitied him for being naive enough _not_ to know.

"You have no idea, do you?" Zuko scoffed and rolled back onto his back. "We have lived very different lives."

"But we're here now, right?" Sokka pressed. "Doesn't that mean anything?"

Zuko didn't get the chance to answer before Katara spoke up. "You know what you guys have?" She asked, voice on the cusp of slurring. "You have what dad and Bato have."

"Right," Sokka laughed. "Because I've been in love with Zuko since I was in my mid twenties but I don't want to come out to my kids and admit it."

"Not like that," Katara waved him off as she peeled herself off of Aang. "I mean you make it obvious, but there's just so little follow through. Which," She held out a hand. "Which I appreciate. I don't want it to be weird."

"You've just made it weird," Zuko said from his spot on the ground. "I don't see the... _uh... fuck..._ the relation! I don't see the relation."

"Because there isn't any," Sokka insisted. "I just wish dad would drop the act and tell us Bato and him have been together for years already, that's all. ”

“He doesn’t want us thinking he’s replacing mom,” Katara said and steeple her hands. Her choker looked like it caught a flash of light just to prove a point. Mom wanted dad to be happy. Mom would have been okay with it.

_He reminded him of her..._

“We know he wouldn’t,” Sokka agreed because unpacking took time that he didn't want to waste. “But fuck, I’d rather have Bato as a step-dad then see dad mope around whenever his boyfriend that isn’t officially his boyfriend isn’t there.”

“His _special_ friend.”

_"His brofriend.”_

“Okay okay, we get it,” Toph interjected. “Spare some good father figures for the rest of us…”

Sokka and Katara shared a look, realizing that maybe Zuko was right. _They had no idea._ Not like how they did. Hakoda had been distant because of work, but in the end he always came back. He loved the unconditionally. Katara and Sokka knew what family could mean. They knew what home could mean.

None of the others felt that. And it sucked that it took Sokka talking about his dad's not boyfriend and a shitty one-liner from Toph to realize that.

Katara broke the stunned silence. “I’m _so_ sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Aang said, bursting with false positivity. The same tight smile on his face that was there when they finally left the fight arean. “It was funny! See? _Haha brofriend…”_

“Yeah,” Toph agreed, hers much less enthusiastic. “It’s not that big a deal…”

“Zuko?” Katara sat up and looked over at the two of them. Zuko had made no move to get up, and instead had his hands folded neatly over his chest.

“Aang was right,” Zuko commented. _“Brofriend_ was really funny. Good one, Sokka.”

He hadn't ruined it. Sokka knew that. He could fix it. He could get Zuko to smile again even though that glassy distant gaze was back.

Dancing light and shadows on the vans blank surface caught his eye and he nudged Zuko just enough to snap him out of whatever plane of existence the older teen had gotten dragged into. "How do you feel about shadow puppets?"

A laugh bubbled out of Zuko's throat, but his face betrayed the mild joy. His expression turned in some cross of confusion and intrigue. "Neutrally... why?"

"I wanna see if I can remember how to make a wol- AH!" Sokka contorted his hands into a vague shape. His palms were pressed together with his two pointer fingers intertwined and his thumbs pointed up to make ears. "Here it is!"

“What’s that?” 

“A wolf! I mean, it’s kinda a wolf. See.” He let out a howl that was closer to the hoots he was screaming at the wrestling match. Zuko didn’t seem to care about the difference, but got the general gesture.

 _“Ah..._ my mistake.”

“Are we doing shadow puppets?” Aang asked excitedly, completely abandoning the fifth braid near the crown of Katara's head.

It turns into something of a production without Sokka's intent. Aang had made a moose which had large enough antlers for Katara's bird to land on. But when Sokka's wolf came in, the moose and the bird fled to the other side of the van. At least as far as the light let them.

Zuko laid on his side and watched. Sokka had to contort his back in ways that were certain to be sore by the time he woke up, but he wouldn't have given up the position of Zuko's body aligned perfectly with his own for the world. Even if it was on the forest floor while both of them were high and one in particular was doing a fantastic wolf impression.

Bro's could do that. Bro's could also break the wolf impression to sweep stray hairs off another bro's face and kiss the worried lines on his bro's temple.

“Do a bunny.” Sokka requested as he mustered enough strength in his spine and arms to begin again.

“I don’t know how to,” Zuko lied. "I'm not fancy like you guys."

“Come on, just do the peace sign one," Zuko relented, his shadow puppet remaining still aside from the few times Sokka's arms twisted in a way to obscure the bunny ears. "What's the bunny's name?"

_“Sokka-”_

“You named it after _me?”_ Zuko dropped his arm back down over his chest and Sokka laughed, pressing another kiss to the top of Zuko’s head. That got him to lighten up a little. 

“Come on you _have_ to name it. My wolf's name is Foo Foo cuddly poops. Mr. Foo Foo Cuddly Poops, say hi to Mr…”

“I’m not naming the bunny.”

“Ugh, fine. Foo Foo Cuddly poops, meet nameless bunny number 1. If, of course, nameless bunny number 1 knows how to have a good time and will play shadow puppets with his _friends.”_

Zuko relented with a huff and shot his arm back up. That time, the bunny was more interractive, moving across the blank plane of the van and even crossing to the moose and the bird. Sokka shifted himself a little lower, just to be closer to the light and to make his wolf bigger before stalking his metaphysical pray. Then, as soon as the majority of his weight had accidentally ended up rolled on top of Zuko, the shadow puppet devoured the bunny.

Sokka wanted to kiss the look of horror off of Zuko's face. “Why? No! _Sokka!”_

“I thought you said you didn’t care!”

_“I care a little…”_

“My apologies to nameless bunny then.”

Zuko watched for a couple seconds more in stunned silence. Aang’s moose attempted to get Katara’s bird to land on its antlers. “I think I know how to make a duck." He said after a determined few moments filled with mourning for the loss of nameless bunny.

“Really? That’s impressive.”

“I don’t know if it’ll be good but,” He got the general shape but they were too far away to make the rest of the body turn out right with the flickering flame. Sokka reached around to use his elbow and hands to fill the space.

“The duck has a shell now.”

_“Turtleducks?”_

“Fuck yeah, turtleducks…”

Then there’d be a moment. A moment when he’d laugh too hard, full-bodied and uninhibited. A moment when the light would catch his eyes and he would squint them closed while his eyebrows furrowed together. A moment when he’d instinctively flinch away not in fear but in teasing when Sokka’s hands would almost land near the curve of his throat. A moment when the sweat on Sokka’s thighs would mingle with Zuko’s own and his hair would cling to the back of his neck. The only thing Sokka could fathom in his brain as both their breathing matched in depth and speed while beginning to drift as their impromptu puppet show was interrupted by the call of sleep was:

_No more than this._


	6. And now we're out to be the masters to set our spirits free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just weeks ago, Zuko was worried that he would start craving Sokka’s touch like he craved air.  
> No, he was worried that _Sokka,_ would crave his touch. That _Sokka_ would need the attention that Zuko couldn’t provide. Like a pet. Like a dog. Like someone who had left their cat to go to work while the cat chose to bask in the sunny spots their owner would usually stay in. Existing in a space that they once held. Like they missed them and needed them, but wouldn’t fess up to it.  
> Sokka bumped his shoulder good-naturedly, a hand still around his waist protectively as they watched out the window just in case the car would come back. “You good, baby?”  
>  _Oh, fuck me_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Click the notes at the bottom for Trigger warnings. None of these are in detail, it's more so mentions than anything. Except panic attacks but that's just on Zuko POV chapters  
> Also sorry this took so long uh... a lot has happened in real life and a lot happens in this chapter  
> But for those who haven't read it yet, I did in fact update this earlier! Just in the form of a different fic ie [Aries Sun, Capricorn Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26274268) Which takes place in the middle of this chapter (Like, the nightmare part you'll know) so if you wanna popcorn read or if you wanna check it out after, go right ahead!

_Six snapchats from_ _🍃_ _💨_ _Avatar Aang_

_ >> Here they are!!! You gotta send me the ones you took, okay? _

_most of mine are blurry << _

_ >> Who cares??? I NEED THE MEMORIES _

_i saw you posted some already. censoring my face with my bitmoji tho? <<  
of all things???<<_

_ >> I thought it was cute! Plus, I asked Gyatso he said it was fine _

_you didn’t ask me << _

_ >> Well, obviously bcuz you would say no _ _  
__ >> It’s okay though, nobody knows it was you, so it’s fine! _

The pictures were lined up in threes, the first being one of Sokka and Toph in the _Callejón del Beso._ A tight hallway painted with oranges and reds. Toph stood above him, one leg keeping her balance while the other was bent, her foot pressed against the wall. With her added height of standing on the fifth step, she could get her leg up to where pink paint intervened the red. One hand was in a V spread over her mouth with her tongue hanging out. The other was hanging ten. Sokka was below her squatting with prayer hands, but it looked like his attempted tough guy persona was broken by a laugh. His eyes were squeezed tight and his smile was bright. So much for being a hallway known for kisses shared between lovers.

Next was a picture oversaturated with color. Katara and Zuko sat on a stone fountain with a turquoise interior. The color making the water spilling out from the top and into the basin look all the more appealing. Plants in terracotta pots were spaced around them and the bottom of a short iron fence took up the bottom of the frame. The two of them were eating ice cream from small bright green paper cups, both of their attention caught by something off screen. Zuko had his legs crossed and Katara had hers tucked under herself in a kneeling position. Both of their hair sticking in random directions due to the inconsistent breeze. Both of their expressions turned in some variation of disgust and confusion. Zuko remembered the moment caught in time was preceded by a well meaning old man, more likely than not trying to get them into his shop close by, had said they made a beautiful couple.

The third picture was the immediate aftermath. The two of them having folded over with laughter.

Zuko sent back a picture of Aang up against a particularly pink wall throwing double peace signs. Smiling so hard his eyes were closed. Then one of him and Katara at the _Museo Ex Hacienda San Gabriel de Barrera_ amongst a sea of wild flowers. Then another of Toph and Sokka in the lovers alley, the more serious picture that took place three seconds before the one Aang had sent. Toph still hanging ten, Sokka's prayer squat pre-fir of laughter.

Aang then sent another picture of Zuko and Sokka in the same alley. A few tourists had gotten into the frame and Katara leaned against the wall in the foreground as her and Toph were mid conversation. Zuko and Sokka were back at the steps, Zuko sitting in front of him on the lowest and caged in by Sokka’s thighs as he sat a few steps above him. Sokka was caught mid wild over exaggerated explanation about how he haggled down the price of a knick knack he had bought an hour prior as if Zuko wasn’t the one who paid for it. His arms were spread dramatically and his eyes twinkled, even through the picture. Zuko leaned to the opposing side as Sokka did. His head settled on the pillow of Sokka’s thigh with a barely there smile and his sunglasses on.

_💙_ _Katara Irniq_ _💙_ **added as friend**

 _Sokka will Rock Ya_ **added as friend**

_Six snapchats from Tough Bae Long_

_ >> You guys are taking forever. _

_ >> I’ll get behind the wheel of App myself and leave you bitches _

_ >> Opa the Second _

_ >> Appa the Second _

_ >> That one sounded right. If it isn’t I’m throwing my phone out the window. _

Zuko remembered there was a text he had meant to get back to for hours.

_To: Uncle_

_hi, uncle. this is zuko. this is my new number << _

_From: Uncle_

_ >> It’s lovely to hear from you after all this time _

_ >> Call me when you get the chance, nephew _

Followed by a little animated picture of Iroh peaking over bolded letters reading GOOD MORNING and smiling wide. Zuko remembered Aang was the one who created the bitmoji for Uncle, one of the few times the two had met. Uncle had been using it ever since.

The phone rang once, twice, three times… then four.

_Hello, this is Iroh Hiranuma. My deepest apologies that I can’t make it to the phone right now. I’m probably working on a new blend of tea at the Jasmine Dragon Tea Shop which you can find at the corner of Chambers Street and West Broadway. If it’s an emergency, you can call the work line there. If not, leave a message after the tone. Have a lovely day!_

“Uncle, Hi! Zuko here,” He leaned against the rough brick wall and scuffed his heel along the parking line, kicking up pieces of loose asphalt as he went. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you sooner. Everything has just been going... _so fast.”_

An artificial wind escaped from the sliding doors beside him. The mumbled tune of some Cat Stevens song that Zuko only vaguely recognized distracted him just enough to see Sokka walk through the automatic doors, holding two Arizona iced teas above his head like they were fucking trophies. _“Baby, I love you,”_ He sang along. _“But if you wanna leave, take good care. Hope you make a lot of nice friends out there~”_

Zuko held a finger to his lips and Sokka shut up immediately, dropping the cans to his chest and wincing in apology. “But also insufferably slow…”

“Are you on the phone?” Sokka asked, taking a few steps to close the several feet of distance between them. “Is it Iroh?”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “We stayed in Mexico longer than we intended to, but it was great. We spent a week in Guanajuato. It was beautiful, mostly sightseeing and museums, though.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Sokka added and bit down on the pull tab of the bright orange canned tea sporting a bull's skull on it until the blue tab popped off between his teeth. “I loved the museum. And the library was _sick._ Lots of Jesus’ though. I don’t think Aang was too into it.”

“I’ve never gone to a library and had the first descriptor come to mind be _sick.”_

“I stand by it,” Sokka went to take the pull tab from his mouth only to remember both hands were full. He leaned in closer to Zuko with a raised eyebrow. Zuko grabbed hold of it without much of a second thought and watched as Sokka began sipping at the overly sugary beverage. “Can he hear me?”

“Voicemail. Don’t expect a response,” Zuko had already been on speaker, but went the extra mile and held his phone out. “That was Sokka, by the way.”

“Hi Zuko’s Uncle!” Sokka said cheerily, slightly louder than he truly needed to as he leaned even closer into Zuko’s space. “Don’t worry, I’m taking _fantastic_ care of your nephew.”

Zuko’s heart rate spiked and he hung up the call faster than Sokka could take back what he had said.

Which was relative anyway because Sokka didn’t take it back. Instead he looked down at Zuko, a smirk playing at his lips.

“What the fuck was that?” Zuko asked, and got mock confusion in response.

“What?” Sokka asked, holding the unopened Arizona tea to his heart. “I _am_ taking care of you. Who else is there to say _‘Hey Zuko? Maybe you should sleep at normal hours. Or eat? Or drink something that isn’t caffeinated_ . _’_ Speaking of~” He sing-songed, holding the drink to Zuko's sternum.

The chill of the aluminium made a shiver run down his spine and the condensation along the can cooled him down in that spot. That one point of sharp coldness didn’t do as much as he wished it could. 

“You’re no one to talk.”

“Oh no, I’m a hot mess too. I just make it _work_ for me.”

The wet heat of Salina Cruz made his hair curl along his ears with sweat and the sunglasses didn’t do nearly enough as he wished they would to shield his eyes and overly sensitive skin from the sun's rays. The one benefit that the heat and the glasses had was blending the blush he felt along his cheeks with the red his skin already sported from the sun as he took the iced tea can from Sokka. Only to have his hand land on the small of his back and pull him in a little closer.

Sokka was talking, but Zuko couldn't process a damn thing past “I got you the green tea one obviously, but you gotta drink it before the others see because I don’t wanna share with the class. I mean, I got Katara an Arnold Palmer because she saw me when I was checking out, but she’s my sister so it doesn’t really count. But Aang and Toph didn’t get any. It’s only two more but-”

Zuko nodded along and sipped from the can, watching as the object of his affection ranted about tea, of all things. He talked so much but every single topic always came out as passionate and fiery. It was nice having someone who could carry a conversation with himself.

 _Not that Zuko had him._ No, of course not.

Sokka was a friend. A very close friend. A friend who Zuko absolutely wasn't checking out because he saw him everyday.

A friend who was wearing black adidas shorts with a five inch inseam exposing strong thick thighs. A friend who had his hair down and who had finally gotten around to taking the clear spacer in his nostril piercing out and putting a silver hoop there. A friend who wore a gray shirt sporting his home town that Zuko had stolen countless times to sleep in. The only reason he had worn it that day was because Zuko had left it on the bed when he went to change and it was the only thing still semi-clean that technically belonged to him. Speaking of laundry, Zuko let his eyes flutter downwards for a half second before meeting Sokka’s eyes again. 

A friend whom he knew for a _fact_ was wearing a pair of boxers that had a hockey team patterned along them because they were the only ones clean. A pair of boxers that had an elastic band reading SAXX right below Sokka’s naval.

Zuko had finished near half the can and was tipping it back to finish it faster.

“Thirsty?” Sokka teased, as he took a few large gulps from his own drink.

_You have no idea._

Zuko raised his eyebrow in acknowledgement, but closed his eyes as he finished the last bit of it.

_Or, you have the exact same idea and we should just call it._

Zuko thought back to Jet, because of course that’s where his brain always went. It was the only comparison he could draw from. Him and Jet would steal away when they had time. They thought they were being careful. Then suddenly Zhao knew. Then Ozai knew. Azula knew the second Zuko had come home because one bruising bite mark had made it’s way past his collar. One out of the tens that littered along his chest and in between his thighs.

Suddenly the last bit of sweetness from the can felt bitter and made his stomach turn. His entire body ran cold and he was lucky enough that Sokka was still attached to him by one point of contact or else he would have felt sick at the thought of being touched like that again. Maybe it wasn’t that Zuko hated the act of being touched by his ex, it was the fact that, through everything, the threat of Ozai was right _there._ His father knew too much about Jet, he had been on his radar since before they even started dating. That’s what made him sick. The thought of his father _knowing._

And since Zuko had sufficiently turned himself off, he pulled the can from his lips and opened his eyes.

Maybe speedrunning his trauma in his head wasn’t the _healthiest_ boner killer in the world, but it was the easiest. If easiest meant Sokka could take his can away from his hand and press a kiss to his forehead, like the sweat, overgrown bangs, and proximity to the burn didn’t bother him without Zuko chasing the feeling, at least. 

“You were out of it for a second.” Sokka said against his forehead before pulling away just enough to look down at him. Zuko couldn’t help but laugh at the overtly tough voice Sokka put on. He only did it when they were that close, and of course it was hot, but not at all what he needed.

“If you must know, I was imagining you having a mental breakdown in the refrigerated beverages aisle,” Zuko bit his bottom lip, fighting the urge to close the space between them. “Also I’m _uncomfortable,_ so if you could-”

“Right, totally.” Sokka took a few steps back so the two of them could breathe again. He felt himself look over his shoulder, knowing damn well he wouldn’t see much past his less than stellar peripheries. The act was mostly done so he wouldn’t look at Sokka. Sokka, who hesitated with finishing his own drink and did so while looking away from him as well.

Scratch that, it _wasn’t_ easier. None of it was easier. It was just necessary.

It was the risk of someone finding out. It was the risk of his father knowing. It was the risk of having another _Jet_ situation. Which he had no time to get over because Katara and Toph just kept bringing him up. Katara only spoke of him with vitriol and hatred while Toph idolized the guy. It was hard to hold strong onto an opinion when his mind kept going through the pros and cons of his two year relationship. 

_He cheated on you at least once, with Katara of all people. But he did let you stay with him for a month straight. He was angry and screamed at you all the time. But… you have to admit when the time was right you were sort of into it. He hit you and talked you down more times than you can count. The last time you spoke to him you did press a somewhat sharp object against his throat and insisted he never touch you again so it wasn’t like you were in the clear either._

What Zuko had with Sokka was exactly what he wanted. The intimacy without the commitment. The closeness without the title. Hell, it was probably more than what he wanted. But, if he said anything, Sokka would stop. Which Zuko didn’t want. He should have. He absolutely should have.

“Well,” Sokka said as he tossed both of their cans into the nearest trashcan and grabbed hold of Zuko’s hand to drag him back to the van. “We’re not gonna leave without you, baby.”

But he didn’t.

Fuck, he didn’t think he ever would.

Which was the exact reasoning his brain needed to call it off. Instead, he pulled closer. Changing the grip Sokka had on his hand so instead of consistent and neutral clasp, their fingers were intertwined.

Sokka looked back at him with a wide smile on his face taking up his face.

_No more than this._

_No more than this._

_No more than this._

_No more than-_

“Okay, so ground rules!” Toph’s shout from her place cross-legged on the bed towards the back of the van took him out of his thoughts. She held her phone in one hand and gripped the oversized body pillow in the other. She had claimed Zuko’s black tanktop and Katara’s high waisted shorts as her own. Aang sat with his back to the passenger side, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankle. The sleeves of one of Sokka’s math pun t-shirts were rolled up to his shoulders and the pair of khaki cargo shorts he wore had the beginnings of a patch design embroidered onto several of the pockets. Katara sat beside him, her legs tucked under herself. Her hair was pulled up into a red scrunchie and she wore Zuko’s white and maroon oversized button up with a pair of Toph’s athletic shorts. That, paired with Zuko 90% sure that he had Katara’s “JR Sea Explorer” t-shirt on and Sokka wearing his own clothes (clothes that were only his in principle because Zuko had packed them for _himself_ and had claimed them as his own for nearly _two months)_ only solidified how badly laundry needed to be done.

He said as such as he finished climbing into the car, leaning into the space between the two seats just enough to be heard over Toph’s recounting of rules for a game she had thought up seconds before they decided to take a break.

Katara nodded with acknowledgment of Zuko’s suggestion, and Sokka started up the car before Toph even had the chance to finish her thought. “Phone reads off the list of traditionally hot dude celebrities. You guys judge.”

“Right.” Aang agreed with a nod.

“Yeah,” Sokka started, sparing a look through Zuko’s window and then the rearview mirror. A habit that Zuko had first noticed a week before when the movement between the two glances were still frantic and paired with white knuckles on the steering wheel. At that moment it just looked like one’s usual safety checks. Checks that Sokka would do compulsively every few minutes, but usual nonetheless. Zuko thought better than to ask at that moment. “We got that much before the potty break.”

“Rate on a scale from one to ten,” Toph continued. “Ten being the hottest, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Katara parroted as the synthy guitar intro of Iron Lights by Tamu Massif started.

“Then I need descriptions from the highest rating and the lowest rating people and I say what I think,” Toph said with a laugh. “But, I’ll probably only trust Zuko.”

Zuko couldn’t help but smile at that, but Sokka took it to heart, finally pulling his eyes from triple checking their surroundings to look over his shoulder at Toph. “See, that’s where you get me.”

“I have good taste.” Zuko insisted as Sokka looked back. They caught each other's gaze for a split second.

“Well, obviously _I’m_ not denying that-” Sokka began only to be cut off by Toph.

“It’s because he likes guys, Snoozles,” Before Sokka had the chance to intervene, although he wanted too as his jaw dropped in shock and probably hurt as he turned back to the street in front of them, Toph trucked on. _“Exclusively._ I need a pure comparison to my lesbianism.”

“You know I’m pretty straight, right?” Katara added. _“I_ only like men.”

“Sugar Queen, I don’t think you get it,” Toph made a vague gesture with her phone. “And I’m going to tease you about your hesitance about the straight thing later, but I need Sparky because he’s, like, _gay_ gay and I trust his judgement when it comes to supposed manly sex gods.”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to insinuate, Toph.” Zuko called back.

“I’m _insinuating,”_ She enunciated. “That you’re a _bottom.”_

_“What does THAT have to do with any-”_

“I’m bi!” Sokka reminded, speaking over them all. “I like men! I _love_ buff guys. My ratio is like a solid fifty-fifty!”

“Sokka-” Katara started, something suspiciously knowing in her tone before Sokka corrected himself.

 _“Seventy-thirty,”_ He said instead, holding up a hand and making a so-so motion before draping his arm over the back of Zuko’s chair. “My preference is fifty-fifty but my track record is about seventy-thirty.”

“How many people have you dated, Sokka?” Zuko asked, hyper aware of how Sokka smoothly shifted his arm from the back of Zuko’s seat while turning to instead drape his arm over Zuko’s shoulders.

 _“Enough.”_ He said and gave a gentle pat to Zuko’s left shoulder before pulling his arm back to the steering wheel.

_“Buddy-”_

“Like two,” Sokka shrugged. “Wait... three.”

“Three?” Toph scoffed at the same time as Katara teased.

“And they were _all_ girls.”

Sokka opened his mouth and closed it just as fast, before glancing over his shoulder and shooting an apologetic smile/grimace Zuko’s way. _“Three and a half.”_

“Am I-” Zuko started in a whisper, more to himself, before Sokka spoke up again.

“Aang, help me out here!” Sokka called back. “He likes guys too, but he’s never dated one.”

Aang looked back at them. “I dated Kuzon.” He said it like it was obvious. Like they would even know who that was.

“I didn’t know you two dated.” Zuko caught Aang’s expression falling in the mirror.

It wasn’t that Kuzon was a sore topic for Aang, at least not in a way Zuko knew. He knew that it was Kuzon who introduced the overly bubbly kid who Zuko had seen in passing near the edge of Chaeryu Academy’s property to him. He knew that Kuzon snuck out the same nights that Zuko had because they had lived on the same floor. It shouldn’t have taken that long for him to connect the dots, but it made sense. After the first introduction, Aang hung out near campus more and more. He had worn pieces of their uniforms casually around town the few times they had begun to hang out with each other. Which was still few and far between because when Zuko left, his main goal was getting to Jet or going home. There were even a few times Aang had managed to sneak onto campus and attended classes just to giggle with Kuzon in the back.

Zuko had never bothered connecting the two because the day Kuzon stopped coming to school, Aang hadn’t.

He also realized he never quite learned what had happened to Kuzon.

“It was only like a few months,” Aang said with a sigh. “He was cool but, he kinda just stopped talking to me one day and… I don’t know, I’m hoping his family just moved or something.”

The fake optimis in Aang’s voice didn’t do anything for the unease beginning to bubble in Zuko’s chest, but Sokka must’ve not realized the edge that the two of them had because he shouldered on. “Okay well as adorable as that may be you’ve ruined my only defense,” Katara and Toph laughed along, something honest and casually teasing. Aang laughed too, but he sounded strained. Zuko knew better than to ask up front. Sokka continued. “Yes, I like men and I feel like I’m a good source. _Just wanna put that out there.”_

“Sorry, Sparky still overrules,” Toph insisted. _“I_ make the rules of Hotman.”

Zuko couldn’t fight the way his body tensed and his whole being cringed at the name. “Is that what we’re calling it?” He pulled his phone out and opened up his messages, his mind still a little too focused on the whole Kuzon thing. It wasn’t like they didn’t keep up at least five different conversations going at the same time anyway. He opened up the thread of messages he had going with Aang, who he had changed the name of after the younger teen's last _realization_ while high.

_To: Avatar Aang_

_I’m not letting you get away with that Kuzon thing. Why didn’t you tell me? << _   
  


“I love that!” Aang shouted, genuine excitement back in his tone as he pulled his phone out in response to the flute signaling his message made it. “Zuko does that mean you’re the prime hotman?

“I’m not letting you call me that.” His phone barely had the chance to vibrate before he saw the string of messages pop up.

“Too late, Sifu Hotman.”

_From: Avatar Aang_

_ >> I DID tell you about Kuzon _

_ >> Right then _

_ >> Check snap _

_Two snapchats from_ _🍃_ _💨_ _Avatar Aang_

Zuko proceeded to go towards Snapchat as the conversation about the game Hotman continued around him. The next in the series of pictures had no right to be as damning as it was. It was taken through the window of the van, the string lights and the wood panels still in frame. In the center of the frame was Sokka and Zuko leaning against the store’s whitewashed brick wall. He had caught them mid forehead kiss, with Sokka’s hand on the low of Zuko’s back (lower than Zuko had even realized as the act in itself had become a touch to casual between them) and his own eyes fluttered closed like he was enjoying the moment a little too much. The caption, brash as ever, simply said _‘This you?’_

The second was a screenshot of Aang and his thread of texts, his name being replaced with ‘Hotman’ flanked by two fire emojis on each side

The third and final was another picture, that one from inside the car taken no more than a minute before. Sokka’s arm was around his shoulder and he was leaning in and Zuko was caught mid laugh. The top of Aang’s head took up the majority of the bottom center of the frame, his eyebrows shot up like a cartoon and a barely there lens flare shot off from his industrial piercing. The caption read _‘I’ll tell you more about Kuzon as soon as you tell me about THREE AND A HALF?’_

Maybe he deserved that. But more importantly Aang deserved Zuko considering ending their friendship for a moment. Instead he texted back.

_To: Avatar Aang_

_is this a game to you? << _

_ >> Hotman, you know me _ _  
__ >> Of course it’s a game _🤣 🤣

i wouldn’t want to distract you from the heart eyes katara is giving you right now<<

That snapped Aang out of it enough to look over at Katara who was in fact, looking his way. The two blushed and both went back to looking opposite directions. Zuko didn’t snap a picture like Aang had apparently been doing, but he was certain he’d catch between the eventually.

He tuned back into the conversation as Toph made a pleased _AH-HA_ sound as she found a list she was willing to work from. “Okay, so listen up because this is as loud as it’s gonna get! Sokka, turn the music off!” Sokka did exactly that, cutting off a Queen bass riff.

Toph held her phone out and a femenine robotic voice spoke up “Aiden Turner.”

All of them mulled over the name for a moment, trying to place who the hell that could be and where any of them would recognize him from. Katara spoke up first. “He’s a seven, but only as Kili.”

The memory of the Hobbit movie flooded back into Zuko’s mind as Aang chimed in. “He’s the one with the brother, right? He dated Evangiline Lily’s character.”

Toph gasped. “Wait, I fucking love Evangeline Lily! Her voice is so hot.” She said dreamily, as Sokka hummed in agreement.

“Couldn’t agree with you more. But, I’m still kinda stuck on the Kili thing. I liked the other guy better. What was his name? Tho-” He bit his bottom lip in thought and his eyebrows were screwed together. Zuko interrupted his almost realization, because he was thinking the exact same thing.

 _“Thorin Oakenshield?”_ Zuko asked, a little more excited than he had any right to be. As soon as he said the name, Sokka’s eyes practically rolled to the back of his head and a dazzling smile broke through.

 _“Fuck,”_ He moaned, and for a moment Zuko had to focus on Thorin Oakenshield instead of Sokka rolling his eyes back and moaning because one was much easier to feel a positive neutral towards than well... _uncomfortable._ “Thorin can do whatever he wants to me.”

 _“Same.”_ Zuko said in a small voice despite himself.

“Okay, but fuck Thorin,” Toph grounded and made a big show of her attempt at rolling her eyes. “We’re talking about Kili.”

“A five, I guess.” Aang chimed in at the same time as Zuko’s _“Two.”_

“Don’t be mean,” Sokka teased with a gentle nudge to Zuko’s shoulder. “He’s a five. I’m with Aang on this one.”

Katara scoffed from behind them. _“Wow.”_

“Okay, Sugar Queen,” Toph leaned forward in her seat. “State your case.”

Katara thought about it for a moment before speaking. “Okay, so he’s Irish. Really sharp bone structure. I think his eyes are green or brown. Long flowing hair, at least in the Hobbit.”

“Is he tall?” Toph asked, to which Katara shrugged.

“Toph, we all agree we’ve only seen him in the Hobbit. He was a dwarf. I’ve only ever seen him being three feet tall.”

“How was I supposed to know?” Toph said between laughs. “Anyway, Zuko?”

“He’s unremarkable,” Zuko admitted. “He’s muscular, dark hair sorta curly, but could be pretty much any guy. Katara was right about the brown eyes and I’ve only ever seen him with some kind of short beard so imagine that.”

Toph scoffed. “Not a lot to work with, but whatever. Uh… yeah, I’ll go with one.”

“Is it because you’re gay?” Sokka asked, casting a glance back towards her. “If so I feel like that’s cheating.”

“Firstly, the whole _gay and blind_ thing is the main part of the game,” Toph defended. “And I don’t know, something about 'unremarkable' really stuck out to me. I need a little more grit to my theoretical men… Next is…”

The robotic voice wrung out “Chris Evans.” And Zuko could practically feel Sokka’s pulse pick up and his excitement buzz.

On the contrary, Katara only sighed. “This list feels very white.”

“Ten!” Sokka’s voice cracked but he made no show of noticing it. “A fucking ten. Of course he’s a ten, he’s Captain America. I watched Red Sea Diving Resort with Suki when it came out and I was trying to focus on the plot but… _fuck me…”_

“So eager,” Zuko teased, much too focused on keeping his voice level and his cheeks from bursting into flames to even remember what Chris Evans _looked_ like. “He’s in Knives Out, right? Snowpiercer?”

 _“You don’t know-”_ Sokka started, only to be cut off by Aang.

“I mean, I think he’s more of a five.”

“Two fives in a row?” Katara questioned. “I’m kinda on Sokka’s side. Nine on Evans.”

“It’s because he’s got his eyes on someone else, Katara,” Zuko teased only to get a small jolt of his seat moving forward from Aang throwing himself into and insisting that he shut the hell up. “Evans is like a four.” He laughed, only beginning to laugh harder at the shock on Sokka’s face.

“Evans is my _man,_ baby,” Sokka put a hand to his heart. “Don’t be so fucking hard on him.”

Aang’s assault on the back of Zuko’s chair halted and his smile beamed. “Did you just call Zu-”

“I will defend his honor!” Sokka practically shouted over Aang. “First things first, he’s a brick shithouse, alright? And Zuko, he’s a tea guy. You love tea!”

As they rolled to a stop, Sokka turned around in his seat and kept talking. “And no, I was calling C-Evans my baby. _‘So hard on my baby, man.’_ See?”

“I need a description!” Toph reminded, and Sokka waved her off as the light turned green again and they could turn back onto the freeway.

“He’s blond most of the time,” Sokka started. “Sometimes more a caramel color. Beautiful blue eyes. Stacked. Fantastic ass. And that’s canon to Captain America. Comics and movies.”

“I’ve only read Ultimates,” Zuko leaned his head against the window, enjoying Sokka getting worked up more than he should. “But that was when I was a kid.”

“Then you more than ANYONE, should know he’s caked,” Sokka insisted. “616, Ultimates, and MCU they straight up mention how amazing Steve Roger’s ass is. So I stand by it. All universes, where he is a consenting adult post serum.”

“You’re an ass man?”

“I _CAN_ BE!”

Toph wheezed in laughter from behind them, Katara laughed from behind her hand. Aang shot him a knowing look and mouthed. _Look at your phone._

_One snapchats from_ _🍃_ _💨_ _Avatar Aang_

_ >> When I’m the best man at your wedding, I’m showing this _

Zuko didn’t need to even see the image of them frozen in laughter from below with Sokka animatedly describing Captain America’s ass to know that Aang had filmed the whole thing. That didn’t stop Zuko’s heart from aching a little.

_To:_ _🍃_ _💨_ _Avatar Aang_

_that’s a very generous assumption, aang << _

  
  


“Zuko?” Toph said between bouts of laughter as the rest of the van died down. “Your turn.”

“He’s just…” Zuko started, and was almost immediately cut off by Sokka’s hand on his upper thigh and gripping tight.

“Don’t you _dare_ say unremarkable, Zuke.”

Zuko was frozen, his mouth open to say anything but nothing came out. The little bit of cognisance he had that hadn’t burst into flames at Sokka’s hand quite literally between his thighs, something that he had done before but the grip just sent sparks of electricity up his spine, wasn’t exactly focused on his defense. Instead all his brain provided him with was a constant chanting of _Sokka, Sokka, Sokka, Sokka,_ in between his ears.

“He’s just not my type.” Zuko decided, and Sokka finally spared a look at him. 

“What is your type then?” He asked, and if all of Zuko’s brain functions hadn’t just blue screened he would have noticed that Sokka moved his hand down lower, safer, but braced some of his weight onto him. The pressure of his thumb on the outside of his thigh made the little bit of space surrounding it go pale while the rest of his body went reddish. _If I’m blushing too my fucking feet right now, I’m throwing himself out of this van._

“I don’t _really_ have a type.” Zuko unintentionally whispered, his trance only broken by Katara’s scoff.

“He dated, Jet remember?” She asked. “If _that_ isn’t a type, then I don’t know what is.”

“Jet isn’t a type, he’s a threat,” Zuko insisted, trying to keep a teasing tone as Sokka’s eyes went back to the road. He didn’t let go though, and Zuko wasn’t sure if he wanted him too or not. The fact that he didn’t hear but wouldn’t be surprised if there was a quiet shutter sound from Aang’s now growing collection of blackmail material did little to deter him. He forced a breath between round lips. “I don’t know. Yeah, Chris Evans is everything Sokka said but-”

“The tea, Zuko.” Sokka insisted in a whine.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean anything to me,” Zuko shrugged and forced another breath. _Calm down. Calm down. Calm down._ “It’s a benefit, I guess. But what am I going to do? Take him into my Uncle’s tea shop? He’s white, small blue eyes, bushy eyebrows…”

“So, four sounds pretty solid to me.” Toph agreed and Sokka hit his head against the steering wheel in defeat, honking the horn in the process.

A few cars back, another horn honked. They thought best to ignore it.

Well Katara, Aang and Toph did. Zuko tried too. Sokka lifted his head from the steering wheel. _Rearview, passenger window, rearview, passenger window. Sit up higher, rearview, passenger window._

“Are you alright?” Zuko asked, speaking low enough so the back of the van wouldn’t hear. That is, if they were paying attention at all. Katara had crawled over to Toph and began scrolling through the list to find someone who wasn’t a middle aged white guy who starred in a fantasy or action movie. Which, unsurprisingly, was the majority of their list.

Sokka nodded, and let his eyes meet Zuko’s for a moment. Before darting back and forth from Zuko to the passenger window. “Yeah, I…” He laughed and looked back at the road ahead of them. “I just can’t believe you don’t think Chris Evans is hot.”

“I never said that.”

“You basically did.”

“I said I had a type and that it wasn’t him.”

“But then you said you didn’t _really_ have a type,” Sokka reminded. “You contradicted yourself, babe. You do it _all_ the time.”

“Don’t call me babe,” Zuko spit back, more aggressive than he intended. “I _hate_ babe. And what do you mean I con-”

“But you love _baby_ ?” Sokka looked over at him again. _Eyes, passenger window, eyes, passenger window._ “Are there any other ones I should steer clear of?”

“I’m not that picky.”

“I mean, you kinda are,” Sokka looked down to his hand, still on Zuko’s thigh, like he just remembered it was there. He went back to the road. _“Low balling Chris Evans, no babe, just baby.”_

“Jet called me babe, so obviously I hate-” _Rearview, road, rearview._ “What are you doing?”

“What d’ya mean?”

 _“Avan Jogia.”_ The robotic voice chimed up.

 _“Eleven!”_ They both shouted enough to be heard and shared a look.

“Beck from Victorious,” Sokka acknowledged. “You?”

 _“Now Apocalypse_ and _I am Michael_ . _Now Apocalypse_ is good in a stoner end of the world kinda way but I hated _I am Michael_ . Oh, and he jerks off Tyler Posey in an alleyway in _Now Apocalypse._ Which was in the trailers, and I admit the main reason I watched it at first.”

“Really?” Zuko nodded. _Road, rearview._ “Is it a movie or a show?”

“Show.” _Rearview, road. Stayed on road. Rearview, road._ “It’s only ten episodes. Next time we stop somewhere, we can watch it.”

“I’m still recovering from Perfect Blue,” Sokka laughed. _Rearview, passenger, road, eyes, road, rearview._ “I don’t know how much more of your taste in media I can-”

“What are you looking at?” Sokka’s eyes froze on his for a blissful moment of stillness before going back to road and giving a reassuring squeeze to his thigh. Sokka’s palm had started sweating.

“Just looking for my exit.” He pulled his hand back and gripped tightly on the wheel. “You know I’m shit at Spanish so you’ll have to point me in the right direction, okay?”

_“Okay…”_

“Okay, twin elevens,” Toph called out from them. “Your off the charts rating is promising. What’s your deal?”

“Who was the lowest?” Sokka asked. _Rearview. Road. Eyes. Reassuring smile. Road._

“Katara.” Toph shouted, and Sokka rolled his eyes, that time paired with a genuine smile.

“Betrayed by my own sister?” He glanced over his shoulder at the others. Zuko did too, only to see all of them had gathered on the bed. Aang was laying on his back with his legs crossed, phone lifted above his face, while the other girls crowded around Toph’s phone. “How dare you?”

“I said nine!” Katara defended herself.

“Well, nine isn’t good enough, Kat!” Sokka laughed and caught Zuko’s eye. He kept laughing, but something had shifted. “Just ask Zuko’s opinion on the show _Now Apocalypse._ I think you’ll have your answer, Toph.”

“I wanna hear it from you!” The banter kept going, Sokka had turned back to the road and stated his defense. Zuko’s phone vibrated in his hand. Floating overtop the default lock screen of swirling oranges and blak were two notifications.

_  
Two texts from an unknown number._

_One snapchat from_ _🍃_ _💨_ _Avatar Aang_

The video was what he expected. A shaky image of them, Sokka leaning in close with his hand on Zuko’s upper thigh. A small smile playing at both of their lips. From that perspective it made it seem like all of Sokka’s attention was on Zuko exclusively. Maybe he was imagining the darting eyes. He had been paranoid himself, after all. In place of a caption there was a red and blue heart.

  
Another text message came through.  
  


_From: Avatar Aang_

_ >> Gyatso should have just texted you, by the way. _

_you gave him my number? << _

_ >> Yeah, obvs _

_ >> He wants to help, Hotman _

_you can’t just change conversation topics that fast << _

_ >> Yeah i can _

_ >> Just did _

_doesn’t matter we already agreed not to press charges << _

_so if it has anything to do with my father i’m not answering << _

_ >> Not your father, just the case _

_which case? << _

_which case, aang? << _

_??? << _

_i’m looking at you look at your phone you can’t ignore me << _

_One snapchat from_ _🍃_ _💨_ _Avatar Aang_

Unsurprisingly, it’s a tik tok of a duck to a Nicki Minaj song.

The supposed texts from Gyatso had walls of words that Zuko didn’t bother reading.

Hotman kept going.

Sokka had turned the music back up.

_Road, rearview, road, rearview, hand back on thigh and a kiss pressed to his shoulder._

“You okay?” Sokka whispered under the music as he straightened back up in his seat, his thumb rubbing comforting and grounding circles on his outer thigh.

“Yeah…” Zuko said, although he wasn’t convincing himself. He tried again. “Yeah, I’m fine… I just… I just wish I could go more than fifteen minutes without remembering. Or… or that I can just flip like you guys. I can’t just… I-”

Zuko turned to look at him, with the full intention of attempting to explain himself more, only to instead feel Sokka’s fingers entwine with his own. “You could always do what I do.”

“And what’s that?”

He pressed his lips to the back of Zuko’s hand. Like he had done hundreds of times before. “I fake it until it stops hurting.”

“Does that work?”

“Taylor Lautner!” Katara called out at the same time as the robotic voice.

“Twilight Taylor or Sharkboy Taylor?” Sokka shouted back, his fingers still tangled with Zuko’s. Lips still pressed to his hand. Still driving, eyes on the road. Then the rearview window. Then the road again.

“He’s thirteen in Sharkboy and Lavagirl!” Katara called back.

“Yeah, and I was ten when I first saw it. It was probably my _first_ bi awakening.” Sokka defended. “So I’ll say six.”

Katara said eight, citing Twilight. Aang shot low with four, reminding them of Cheaper by the Dozen. Zuko didn’t vote. The others debated. Another kiss along rolling veins.

“Your eyes give you away.” Zuko said instead as the song shifted to something upbeat and poppy. The freehand that had been distracted by the peeling faux leather that flanked the sides of the doors reached for Sokka’s phone and held his thumb to it until it unlocked. Revealing his home screen, a picture of him with a girl no older than him on his hip, her legs wrapped around him, in a green sports bra, choppy brown hair, and graphic eyeliner. Both of them hanging ten with their tongues stuck out. As well as the song: Beats by Begonia.

The lyrics were more depressing than they had any right to be. Zuko couldn’t handle the lofty soprano telling him that it was brave but useless trying to be someone he’s not because everyone would learn soon enough anyway. She made it seem more catchy but there was just something so raw and painful about the phrase _“You’re gonna hurt yourself. It’s not your birthday, baby.”_

Sokka puffed a breath of laughter against his hand before dropping it from his lips. Their hands stayed together, Zuko running his thumb up and down the knuckles of Sokka’s pointer finger.

**_Said there is no virtue with no drawn lines_ **

**_You said that no one could hurt you_ **

**_But I do it all the time_ **

Zuko changed his mind, none of the lyrics were catchy. They were just rude through and through.

And already on their playlist. Maybe Sokka knew more about him than he admitted.

“What makes you think I’m theoretically hurting right now?”

_Road, rearview, passenger, road._

Zuko turned his gaze towards his window, letting the wind whip his hair as they drove along rolling hills. “No reason.”

**_-_**

_  
Hello, this is Iroh Hiranuma. My deepest apologies that I can’t make it to the phone right now. I’m probably working on a new blend of tea at the Jasmine Dragon Tea Shop which you can find at the corner of Chambers Street and West Broadway. If it’s an emergency, you can call the work line there. If not, leave a message after the tone. Have a lovely day!  
  
_

“Hi Uncle, It’s-”

“HI IROH!” Aang cheered from his left.

“'Sup Uncle!” Sokka hummed from above him.

“Zuko _and company_...apparently.”

The sun had set hours ago and if Sokka was right about his generalized time zone math and whatever axis they drove along that night, then it should have been about midnight back home. Two AM in Guatemala. Which they had just crossed into. Something that was harder than they all thought it would be no matter how many flashes of passports and rushed translations both Zuko and Toph could pull.

Because, Toph knew Spanish and didn’t fess up to it until Zuko was mid panic attack as of a man with a rifle in his grip yelled at him in a language he had the reading comprehension of a second grader in with a decaying poster of his father’s oil business looming eerily behind him.

Did anyone in the van know about Guatemalan oil rigs? No, _of course not._ Did anyone tell Zuko that he looked a lot more like his father when his hair started to grow out? Yeah, yeah they did. And so did a man with an assault weapon on his hip when he recognized the last name. Did Zuko manage to handle that realization like an adult?

He sure did.

For at least ten miles past the border before he practically ripped the doors open to vomit off the side of the road with Sokka chasing after him to make sure he was _‘Okay, baby’_ because he was _‘so scared.’_ and that he _‘needs to know if you’re okay.’_

And did Zuko, after embarrassing himself around his crush _that wasn’t really his crush because when he looks at his eyes he thinks about swirling oceans and no one looks at someone who is just a crush starts waxing poetic_ , brush his teeth for five minutes straight and gargle listerine before crashing in the lap of Mr. crush himself in the full bed in the back of their van?

Because, of course, if it wasn’t anxiety it just had to be motion sickness? Because Katara drove roughly on dirt roads and having Toph swat at her occasionally made the swerves a little harder? Because Aang sat beside him and insisted it was _‘totally okay that you puked’_ and that he’d _‘never seen you run so fast?’_ Or perhaps even after all of that, Zuko still couldn’t sit upright because his notably shitty inner ear _(thanks dad for that one)_ kept him locked in place in the lap of the guy he couldn’t ever safely consider his boyfriend _(thanks dad again)?_

Maybe so.

That is, if it was something Sokka wanted.

Or worse, if it was something Zuko was allowed to want. He did. _Obviously he did._

But, he knew better than.

And Uncle still wouldn’t pick up his phone. It’s not like he would, it was fucking midnight, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It’s not like Zuko would divulge the gritty details of his night either, but he could really use the random proverbs and tea puns.

“You didn’t answer earlier, so I’m calling again,” Zuko continued, shifting just enough so he’d be facing the ceiling as opposed to having his nose buried in cotton that smelled like his shampoo mixed with Sokka’s deodorant. The smell was familiar and calming for the panic but was horrible for the nausea. The sharp swerve Katara pulled didn’t help either. _“...fuck...”_

“Sorry!” Katara called back. “Big animal crossing the road.”

“Ooh! What was it?” Aang called back, splitting his attention between Katara, his own phone in one hand and Sokka. He reached out for Zuko’s phone in an open palm and Zuko handed it over easily before turning back into Sokka’s torso.

Katara made some educated guesses about the animal and Aang seemed to think it over for a few moments before hanging up the attempted call. Zuko could feel more than hear Sokka speaking. The rumble of his voice paired with deft fingers massaging the base of his skull and down his neck made his stomach flutter. A good kind of flutter in comparison to the near-throwing-up one.

At least Zuko thought they were good. Positive and negative feelings had begun to mingle for him experience wise. He’d let himself have it. Breathing in Sokka, feeling Sokka, humming at Sokka’s touch easing away a headache? All good things.

_Good butterflies._

The beginning of Uncle’s voicemail, meaning he was ignored again, only to be followed up by a particularly rough pothole? Awful. Terrible. The kind of anxiety flutters that triggered fight of flight. Rolling somewhere between his esophagus and his stomach. Spreading out into his lungs until breathing got difficult. Running down his arms until his fingers went numb.

 _Bad butterflies._

_Hello, this is Iroh Hiranuma. My deepest apologies that I can’t make it to the phone right -_

_“I want to crawl out of my fucking body…”_ It came out somewhere between a sob and a whine rather than the slightly annoyed statement he intended it to be as he ended the message. He curled himself tighter around Sokka, balling his fist in the loose fabric of his shirt and pulling his legs in so he was taking up just a little less space.

Sokka didn’t hesitate to continue his string of mumbled nothings and carding his hands through Zuko’s hair. Twiddling and twisting some of the longer strands around his pointer and middle fingers while the thumb was left to its own devices. Sometimes stroking along his jaw, other times stroking the perimeter of the scar. Never touching, but dancing along the line. It was odd, it didn’t feel vulnerable. It felt necessary. Reverent. Careless in a way that Zuko didn’t know _touch_ could feel like. In front of people who were, by all means, allowed to know. _Did know._

Zuko could do no more to reciprocate the act than pull in tighter because he still felt like he’d vomit if he sat up too fast. _“Just yank out my soul and throw my body on the side of the road.”_

“Why would I do that? I like your body.” It was the first thing Sokka had said other than his greeting to Uncle that Zuko actually heard, only for it to be followed up by Toph making a mock gagging noise at the blatant exposure of _whatever the fuck it was that was going on between the two of them._ A limbo between real and pretend.

They should sit down and figure out genuine boundaries. Sometime when a gagging noise wouldn’t disturb the balance he had almost managed. Even though he was admittedly whining about it.

“Toph, I swear to god-” Zuko got out before he had to force himself to breathe away the bile that was threatening to come up his throat.

And Sokka just took it.

Maybe he had been complaining, maybe Zuko just wasn’t paying attention.

But his hands didn’t stop. Every few minutes, Zuko would see a water bottle in his line of sight. And if it wasn’t a water bottle then a small nutrigrain bar. Paired with assurances that he could lay down as long as he wanted, but the least he could do was eat or drink something.

The kindness only made him feel… worse. Zuko decided it made him feel worse. Worse because it made the game between them feel a little too honest.

_Hello, this is Iroh Hiranuma. My deepest apologies that I-_

"Hi Uncle, pick up the phone. This is Zuko."  
  


 _Hello, this is Iroh Hiranuma. My-  
_

"Iroh! Hi! It’s Aang. Give us a call back, we’re trying to reach you."  
  


_Hello, this is Iroh Hira-  
  
_

"Hey, it’s Zuko again. From… a _friend’s-"_

"It’s Sokka. Pronounced with an _‘okka.’_ Your nephew’s been trying to call you for the  
better half of seven hours."  
  


_Hello, this is I-  
  
_

“He’s not answering,” Aang huffed, tossing Zuko’s phone back toward him. Close enough that he could hear the thump of the plastic and glass hitting the pile of bunched up duvet from them not making the bed earlier. “Gyatso told me he got a hold of him earlier but-”

Zuko hummed a vague acknowledgement into _their - Sokka’s - his? He wore it more - but it still smelled like - but it’s technically -_ **_don’t get too attached._ **

The shirt.

The shirt that Zuko needed to stop thinking so in depth about.

_I know better. I know better._

“I think the old bastard is avoiding me.”

“Why’s that?”

It was easier to pull in closer to Sokka, if it was even possible at that point without being compared to that of a boa constrictor, than to explain. So he did. Only getting laughter in response from the teen. Warm laughter that jolted Zuko around just a hair too much. He unfurled one of his hands from the loose fabric and felt around. First hitting the apex of Sokka’s cheekbones, and coasting along the bridge of his nose before landing on chapped but soft lips with the back of his hand. He twisted his hand around and Sokka grabbed his wrist, laughing again. Zuko managed to press one finger to Sokka’s lips with a _“Please shut up.”_

That only got him to laugh harder. “You’re really cuddly when you feel like shit.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Zuko shifted in his lap until he was facing the ceiling again. “I’d do this to anyone in my vicinity.”

“Not to me.” Aang chimed in from beside the two of them. For a moment, Zuko had forgotten they weren’t alone.

“You’d enjoy it too much,” He said. “And you talk.”

“Sokka’s been talking.”

“Has he?”

Sokka ran his thumb up and down each one of Zuko’s fingers. His hair had fallen out of it’s signature wolf tail hours ago, he was sure of it, but he had only just then noticed the way the loose hair framed his face.

Or worse, Zuko had noticed it before. Only to look up and notice it again and again _and again._ In countless different ways. Seeing the way one hair fell compared to the other. Watching as strong fingers would card through his own carelessly before returning back to Zuko’s hair and separating the knots he had accidentally created with care. “You weren’t listening?”

Zuko shook his head, snapping himself out of his self made trance. “I’ve told you that I tune you out sometimes.”

Sokka gasped, holding Zuko’s hand to his forehead like some Victorian dandy about to collapse. “You tune me out? _Me?_ Zuko Hiranuma, after all the things I’ve done for you!”

Zuko laughed along at that too. Any other time those words would have been spat and paired with a dirty look. A shove to the ground, gripping hair too tightly. But it was _Sokka._

Sokka who said it, voice crackling and shifting pitches, some forced some not. Sokka who still held Zuko’s wrist carefully.

Sokka, who pressed another kiss to his hand and only hummed contentedly when Zuko cupped his jaw and ran his fingers along the stubble that had begun to appear there since the last time he shaved. Sokka had mentioned the possibility of a full beard a few days before, and Zuko had shut him down.

Maybe it was selfish and exclusively because he liked the prickly feel of the razor sharp hairs along his palm.

Maybe it was because somewhere deep inside him, or perhaps very obviously at the surface, he wanted to know what the sting of stubble would feel like on his skin. On his lips. _Between his legs._

Zuko hadn’t shaved in awhile either, but it took longer for the hair to grow. Maybe if he waited another week, Sokka would have similar thoughts about the beard burn thing. 

It was a dream to imagine them even getting the chance to be alone, much less act on the mild fantasies playing in his head. Because those _were_ the mild ones. The ones that were graphic and flashed across his vision less often only happened in the less innocent moments. Not when he was feeling so held and cared for. Not when he wouldn’t give a shit if the world had chosen to stop in that moment forever. Not when he knew better than to even think like that.

_No more than this._

_Even though this is already pushing it._

He realized he hadn’t answered yet with a muffled laugh from beside him and a much less controlled one paired with teasing from the front of the car. “Like what?” He goaded on.

“Like right now!” Sokka teased. “I’ve let you drool and gag on me for what? Three hours?”

“AY!” Toph shouted from the front, only to get a swat from Katara in response.

“NOT LIKE THAT!” Zuko shouted back in response, shooting up faster than he had any right too.

He wasn’t sure if it was the blood rushing back down to the rest of his body or Sokka pulling in close to his good ear and whispering _“Lay back down for me, baby.”_ that made his head spin and his stomach flip. But, he did as he was told anyway. Probably faster and more enthusiastically than he should have. It went unnoticed by the others, aside from Toph’s continuous cackle but that could have been excused to her earlier teasing. Sokka, though? His jaw had dropped ever so slightly and the corners of his lips were tugged upward.

Zuko shot him a look that he hoped read _'We’re not talking about this.'_ Sokka quirked an eyebrow up, and the jaw drop turned into a smirk. “Leave me alone.”

“I’m bushed?” Aang teased, only to get more laughter in response from the younger teens.

 _“Leave,”_ Zuko reiterated. “I said leave. Not leaf. I was being literal. Hop off my dick.”

“Holy shit,” Sokka laughed with the rest. “I just got what Toph was implying.”

“I feel like this is how a groupchat with you all would be like.” Katara called from the front.

Aang gasped in excitement, his eyes going wide. “We _SHOULD_ make a group chat!”

“We spend every waking hour together already!” Katara countered reasonably.

“I wouldn’t talk in it,” Zuko admitted, mostly to himself. That didn’t stop the annoyed groans from around him. _“What?”_

“It’s whatever,” Sokka relented with another kiss to his palm before finally releasing his wrist and tangeling both hands in his hair again. “None of us know your number anyway. You can just shadow as me in the groupchat since your thumbprint is on my phone anyway. We’re both pessimistic. Well… _you’re_ pessimistic. I’m a realist. I don’t think they’d notice.”

It’s not like Zuko had forgotten the act, but he still winced at the reminder. “I didn’t know you noticed, sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“It’s just…”

“Sorry that you did it or sorry that you got caught?”

“It was kinda invasive.” _It was absolutely invasive. You broke his trust and he hates you. You’re just like your fa-_

“Don’t worry about it. I thought it was cute,” Zuko tried to make the tension he had held in his shoulders melt away. He felt like he was bracing for a hit. But it was Sokka. Sokka wouldn’t. Sokka liked him. For some fucking reason. _Because you manipulated him into liking you._ “Nothing to hide anyway.”

“Can I put my number in?” Zuko asked, trying to cover his tracks. Trying to play normal. Trying to be better than the intrusive thoughts running through his mind. Then he remembered no one but Aang, Uncle, and Gyatso had his new number and that _that_ was purposeful. But he didn’t take it back. Not when Sokka broke into a larger than expected grin at the request.

“Yeah!” Sokka removed his dexterous fingers from Zuko’s scalp and he almost whined at the loss of contact. “Yeah, of course!”

“What?” Toph called out, her legs crossed and swinging haphazardly out the window as she laid across the seat. “So Sokka gets your number but the rest of us don’t?”

“Yep,” Zuko said, popping the ‘p’ as he unlocked Sokka’s phone. He forced his hands to steady and for his stomach churning with anxiety to ease. At least for a few moments before he could bury himself in another person’s arms again. At least until he could _hide._ Even though they were his self proclaimed friends and he had no reason to. 

The pretty girl whose long legs wrapped around Sokka’s hip greeted him again. Sokka must have noticed his hesitance at the image. “That’s Suki.”

“Okay.”

“She’s an ex of mine.”

“I figured,” Zuko swiped until he reached the contacts. “She’s gorgeous.” He was surprised he meant it with only only a minor pang of jealousy. She seemed perfect for him in the picture.

“Yeah,” Sokka responded dreamily with a dopey grin on his face as if just the mention of the girl made him melt. “She’s on this dance team in Rochester. This was when-”

Toph whistled from the front, getting their attention. “Wow, Zuko. Tell us how you _really_ feel.”

Zuko rolled his eyes and dropped Sokka’s cell phone to his chest, still holding it in his hands. “You can’t see it, but I’m flipping you off.”

“He’s lying.” Aang admitted, unhelpfully.

“I know.” Toph shifted herself around just enough to project in their direction. Twisting in a way that could not be comfortable. Zuko would have to remember to commend her flexibility still remaining years after she stopped dancing. Maybe if the world was different and her parents actually believed in her, she’d get back into it. 

“He’s flipping her off in his soul.” Katara added as she adjusted the rearview mirror. Her face twisted into something Zuko couldn’t read before she glanced back at them and then back to the road.

Zuko found himself following her gaze and looking back as well. They had pulled the blackout curtains down hours ago, exposing the bright lights that hung on the ceiling and hiding them from the outside world again. The corkboard had tilted slightly with Sokka’s shoulder bumping into it when they took hard left turns. The bed was still unmaid, but that was her own doing since it was her and Toph who had claimed the bed the night before. He forced the anxiety that had started to rise in his chest down again. It only made the nausea worse.

“The vibes are there, Sparky!” Toph said, louder than she needed to. But, it was what Zuko needed to snap out of his stupor.

The lights of Sokka’s phone paired with the dotted lights above left trail lines across Zuko’s vision with every minor movement. The letters felt like they were floating off screen and the harder he tried to focus the worse he felt. A spot behind his left eye started to thrum with a consistent burning sharp pain. He pressed the heel of his hand to the scarred skin until the dots that danced across his vision weren’t caused by the shaky lights above him anymore. Zuko passed the phone back to Sokka and draped his forearms over his face.

Of course Sokka was the first one to notice the pain that Zuko was trying to mask. He wouldn’t be surprised if Sokka had caught the panic earlier either. One could only do much when their fear seeped into their nerves and made their hand shakes and their head spin and their stomach churn.

Zuko used to be better at hiding all of it. But Sokka, strangely enough, seemed to bring out too much honesty in him. So much so that he almost told the truth when Sokka asked: “What’s wrong?”

“Screens too bright,” Zuko mumbled, because it wasn’t entirely a lie and he could get away with the answer. He just couldn’t admit to the faux scents of iron heavy air infiltrating his nostrils or else he’d worry more than he already seemed to be. _You’re manipulating him. You’re broken and you’re tricking him into caring._ “Letters were too small.”

“Are you having a migraine or something?” Zuko almost laughed. _Yeah, or something._ He had been having migraines since he was a child. He could handle a migraine. Turn the lights low, get a few painkillers in his system. Bury his head in his pillows and lay on the cool floor for as long as he needed. If he was honest with himself and with Sokka, he’d admit it was a phantom pain and the memories that tagged along with it.

But he wasn’t. Because that would mean he had failed at normalcy. And that he’d never really feel _normal_ again. Which was probably why the nausea found itself stirring within him in the first place. And the fucked up inner ear. And the anxiety at Iroh not answering. And the page long text he still needed to read from Gyatso that would probably tell him news about something he didn’t want to know.

Sokka continued. “I can turn the music down or something if that’ll-”

“No, no, you’re already helping,” Zuko insisted, moving one arm down just enough so he could peak through with his right eye and shoot up a reassuring smile. It was fake, but Sokka didn’t seem to care. He smiled right back, but there was still something that Zuko couldn’t quite read behind it. Maybe he didn’t deserve to read it. Maybe Sokka had walls higher than Zuko. “Your bedside care is great, by the way.”

Sokka smiled wider. One that actually looked fully genuine. One that Zuko felt he didn’t earn but would live in the moments that he got them. “You’re quoting me to me.”

“That I am.”

“Are you okay?”

_“Are you?”_

Sokka seemed to think it over for a moment before nodding. “Of course. I’m always good. Don’t dodge my question though.”

Zuko didn’t have the chance to parse through the messy thoughts in his head to find a witty answer that would get another smile or another laugh before Aang spoke up. “I just texted you.”

“Dude,” Sokka scoffed, “He’s right in front of you.”

“I’ll check later.” Zuko waved him off, because he wanted the moment to last. He knew he had already ruined it, but just a few more seconds. That’s all he wanted. Make it last, the rest of the world doesn’t need to-

“Are you sure this is helping enough?” Sokka asked. “Should we stop for the night or something so you can actually lay down?”

“I _am_ laying down.”

“We weren’t planning on stopping tonight.” Katara countered. Another left turn.

 _“Technically_ it’s not tonight.” Sokka pointed out.

“It’s your schedule, Sokka,” Sokka rolled his eyes, looked down at his phone on the bed, distracted by Suki’s bright eyes and their matching poses. Zuko thought it best to continue or else the barest amount of undeserved jealousy would seep into his words. Toph may have noticed them earlier, but that was because she knew him. Knew _too much_ of him. Same as Aang who spared him one of many worried glances. “Our goal was El Salvador.”

“I know,” Sokka sighed. “But, I’m also not the one whose almost puked three times already.”

“Maybe it’s food poisoning or something.”

“Zuko-” Aang began, but Zuko cut him off with a wave.

“It’s not a big deal,” Zuko went to sit up and regretted the movement as soon as possible, as the wave hit again. He squeezed his eyes tight, leaned against the wooden slope of the wall, found his bearings again when Sokka steadied him with a hand to his chest. “I think I’m just worried.”

“About?” Aang asked, he shouldn’t have needed to, but he asked.

“Iroh? Maybe…” He buried his face in Sokka’s shoulder. He let himself melt into the touch of Sokka’s gentle circles around his shoulder blades. _“I don’t know.”_ He couldn’t even convince himself of that one.

“Tell me when you can look at your phone again.” Aang emphasized. It was always so jarring to see Aang in his _mood._ One where Zuko was forced to remember that Aang did this for people like him all the time. One where Zuko remembered Aang had done it himself too. Gyatso put a lot of weight on the poor kid, only because Aang needed something to do. He craved helping people. Even Aang in the middle of his own panic attack, triggered by overt violence that hit a little too close, needed Zuko to be the one to insist he was uncomfortable. He got them snacks. They stood outside. He played comforter and Zuko had to come up with bullshit to get Aang to parse through his own thoughts. It worked, but it wouldn’t _keep_ working.

“Fine,” Zuko relented and turned the brightness as low as possible, hoping maybe the muted screen and dark mode would make the act easier. It didn’t, especially when he made it to messages and saw words shifting and doubling over essay long texts from Gyatso’s number. He felt eyes burning a hole through him and he held his phone to his chest as he spared a glance towards Sokka. “Yeah?”

“No secrets, right?” Sokka prompted. For a moment, Zuko considered it. Just admitting everything. Being open and honest. But, Sokka was close. He was close and Zuko was terrified of losing that. He was close and he wanted to keep it that way. Plus it wasn’t about him at that moment. Not really. It was about the concerned looks Aang had been shooting him. It was about the earlier texts and the feigned comfort.

“I’ve been face down in your crotch for three hours, I think I deserve an iota of privacy.” That seemed to ease Sokka enough to smile, press a kiss to his shoulder, and join Toph’s badgering of Katara. It was something about the dance team, _Suki’s,_ and how they put him through an intensive once. It was probably interesting, and Zuko would have to learn the details later.

_From: Maybe: Gyatso_

_ >>Hello, Zuko! It’s Gyatso Tenzin! I would just like to say, firstly, I hope you are having a lovely time and I pray you are finding the freedom you so desperately craved. Aang seems to believe this is helping you manage your anger tremendously. (The boys from your hallway wish you the best as well) With that being said, I feel we should go back into discussing your case. _

_ >>I know you were adamant on keeping the case quiet and not pushing for more than a restraining order. But the concern is that your Father... _

Zuko didn’t bother reading the rest. He couldn’t. He knew the drill because he had been doing it for years. Father was too powerful. Father had his hands in the state government. Father was a politician who couldn’t dirty his title with bullshit. Father wouldn’t have their name sullied again. Father practically owned him and Azula. Father knew _better._

The possibility of a restraining order was already pushing it. It had been Iroh’s idea. And Iroh wasn’t even answering. That thought stirred up the anxiety again. Zuko forced that down to respond, focusing more on structuring it professionally than making it seem like he finished reading the rest of the message that had an inevitable ending.

_To: Gyatso_

_Hello, thank you for taking the time out of your day to contact me about the details of << _ _  
__my case. That being said, I haven’t filed a report. The hospital records aren’t in my name._ _  
__Due to the failure of my last case, I am legally not my "own person" and don’t have anything_ _  
__That may be needed_

 _By all means, Ozai hasn’t been aware of my location since Ogdensen International. << _ _  
__If I were to follow through with what you’re suggesting, I would need to go back to  
_ _New York, and therefore back to my father_

_‘Or admit that I-’_ Zuko’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard. There was no way to admit to his abrupt exodus without damning himself. The emancipation had fallen through, but he was technically legal. Legal in the same way he could enlist and travel without the title of unaccompanied minor but not in the way he could buy a drink or cigarettes on his own in his home country. He could run and keep running.

_Flee and keep fleeing._

The thought of running wasn’t as appealing when he knew that Ozai would still be following him. If not by his name or the scar, then by some other means. The signs, the similar features, requests to be seen in court or the harassing news stations on twitter trying to learn about his _escape._ Father was always the type to stoop low. Katara’s weary glance and Sokka’s repetitive ones came to mind.

Zuko looked back again himself, only to remember the curtains had been closed.

He let himself tune into the conversation before reading Aang’s texts. It had morphed from _dancing_ to _functional body parts expected for such an art._ Like functioning legs. Legs that were still hung out the window and kicked playfully much to the panic and chagrin of the siblings.

“One yield sign and you’re done for, dude,” Sokka cringed as Toph stuck a leg out particularly far before pulling it back out of treeline range. “Haven’t you seen Hereditary?”

“Firstly,” Toph teased, “I can’t see anything.”

_“You know what I-”_

“And second, I have mommy issues,” She confided as she pulled her legs back in fully, tucking them under herself criss-cross applesauce style. “Of course I’ve seen Hereditary. That’s the one horror movie I refuse to ever watch again.”

_From: Avatar Aang_

_ >> I know you’re barely going to read what Gyatso said, but here’s the details _

_ >> Zhao isn’t repping you, Gyatso is, they’re aiming for more than a restraining order. Since, you know, you’re not there. _

_ >> Iroh’s cool with the Gyatso thing and pushing forward with the court date _

_not enough to answer my calls << _

_ >> I’m sure he’s fine _

_yeah i’m only sorta worried about him /not/ being fine << _

_i hate my father but that’s one thing he wouldn’t stoop low enough to do << _

_allegedly << _

_ >> Hey, don’t think like that _

_i’ll think however i want << _

_ >> _😢😢😢  
 _> > Your court date is coming up, though.  
_ _> > He’s probably dealing with stuff about that_

_ah, right << _

_the case you avoided talking about earlier << _

_ >> I didn’t see your response to that until now _

_  
__i didn’t file a police report, there’s no proof anything happened. what would they charge for? << _

_  
__ >> Being himself _

_in the tax evasion way, the company way, or the horrible father way? << _

_  
__ >> All of the above, that’s why Gyatso wanted you to know _ _  
__ >> The Burn case is first _

_there’s nothing to prove the burn happened. not legally or medically << _

_ >> Gyatso filed _

_with what proof? << _

_ >> Dude… _ _  
__ >> You _

_??? <<  
_ _i dont have access to anything remember? <<  
_ _did zhao pull through? <<_

_ >> Pics _

_of me? when? << _

_ >> Over the trip i guess? I sent some of them to you today, remember? _ _  
__ >> _Sry?

_??????????? << _

Zuko felt his heart in his throat. Sending pictures were already damning enough. But for them to act as proof? It could have been any man that Zuko was caught smiling or speaking too or being kissed on the forehead by and that would be a problem on it’s own. But, if it was Sokka?  
  


_To: Avatar Aang_

_what the fuck did you do <<  
_ _aang what the fuck is wrong with you? <<  
_ _the ones with sokka? << _

_ >> ???  
_ _> > No of course not. And if he was in them I just scribbled him out or put a cute emoji :)  
_ _> > Just random ones that I took.  
_ _> > They know you’re with me, they don’t know about the others  
  
_

That barely did anything to calm Zuko’s nerves. Sokka laughed beside him at something else Katara said, made a pun that didn’t land as well as he wanted it too, took in the groans and the barely there laughter. Zuko even forced a chuckle, even though the punchline flew over his head. Aang laughed along like he always did, as if he didn’t realize that this brought him into the problem as well. Or maybe he did, and that’s where his insistence at checking the texts came from.

_To: Avatar Aang_

_You don’t see the problem for yourself? <<  
_ _it’s still my father << _

_ >> Yeah I know  
_ _> > But who knows, maybe he’ll actually play nice  
_ _> > Like you said, he’s still your dad right?  
_ _> > First trial date is tomorrow_

_why the rush? << _

_ >> idk, Ozai’s team requested it. Azula is supposed to appear _

_am i? << _

_ >> just to give a rundown of the night _

_over the phone? << _

_ >> I mean yeah, since it’s so soon they’d understand  
_ _> > Plus Gyatso knows you’re with me_

_and so will my father’s entire team by morning <<  
_ _he can’t know where we are <<_

>> ??

_you know what it’s like <<  
  
_

_“Shit,”_ Aang would have gotten away with his mumbled realization if it wasn’t in a pocket of silence between the other three’s conversation. Before anyone else had the chance to so say anything, he dove head first into a distraction. Zuko would have commended him on the fast thinking if he could follow along, but it worked. He didn’t know why it worked, but it did. “I mean... _Holy Shit, you’re a genius Zuko!”_

Zuko didn’t have the chance to _'yes, and'_ the fake excitement from the younger teen before he launched at him and placed an over eager sloppy kiss on his cheek.

If that didn’t do enough to break the tension, Zuko shoving Aang off of him seemed to do it as the other three burst into loud cackles.

“Wait-” Sokka started, holding out a hand as he made an attempt to collect himself.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that!” Aang kept it up, starting to laugh along with the others.

“I’m the genius,” Sokka insisted, pointing to himself for emphasis between giggles. “I mean, Zuko can be smart, but _I’m_ the genius.”

“Hey,” Zuko defended “I’m coming off a pretty shitty couple of hours, S-”

“And why are you allowed to kiss Zuko?” Sokka continued, doing an over the top gesture of swinging an arm around Zuko’s shoulder and pulling him in a little tighter. _“I wanna kiss Zuko!”_

“You _do_ kiss Zuko.” Aang laughed, admittedly more honest that time. “You kiss him _all_ the time.”

“Yeah, but not on the cheek.”

“He’s been my best friend for two years.”

“No, you’re MY best friend!”

Katara and Toph chimed in simultaneously with _“He’s MY best friend.”_ Zuko was still a little too hooked on Sokka’s admission. It was playful and could have been played off as a joke. Fuck, Aang said it himself, they weren’t exactly hiding their affection. They were obvious, but hearing that sort of thing out loud did things to Zuko. Good butterflies. Really good, undeniably good, _so so so_ fucking good butterflies.

 _He wants to kiss me._ He thought. _No one’s ever said they wanted. They just_ _did._ _But Sokka wants to kiss me._

The panicked thoughts froze for a second. He could almost breathe without his chest rattling and his fingers burning again.

“No, whatever you have going on with my sister is a little _too_ charged,” Sokka kept going, Zuko did his best to tune back in. “And Toph is like, always a few seconds away from killing you. You’re my best friend and Zuko is…”

“What am I to you?” The question spilled out before Zuko had the chance to stop it. It was whispered in a way that only Sokka, and maybe Aang if he was paying close attention, could hear it. He didn’t even know if he wanted an honest answer.

Sokka didn’t look like he’d give one either. His brows were knit and he looked oddly serious, like he was considering the _safest_ option. 

Luckily, Aang swooped in and saved them. “He’s your, _And a Half,_ ” He looked between the two of them as if he was proving a point. “That’s what Sokka said earlier.”

“Yeah!” Sokka said, a face splitting smile breaking through as he ruffled Zuko’s already mussed hair. “He’s My _and a half.”_

“Don’t call me that.” Zuko forced himself to say, though there was no malice. There couldn’t have been malice in it if he even tried. The thought of being someone’s _anything_ just made his head swim. 

“I can kiss Zuko because it doesn’t get _weird.”_ Aang spoke over Zuko’s boldfaced lie, loud enough that Sokka didn’t acknowledge it.

“Can _you_ kiss me?” Sokka said, more of a question than a genuine request. That didn’t stop Aang from launching himself at Sokka without hesitation.

“Why yes, Sokka! There’s plenty of me to go around!” Aang threw himself at Sokka and planted an identical kiss on his cheek as he did Zuko with a pat on the head as he pulled away to top it off. That only got Toph and Katara to laugh harder, while Sokka made a show of wiping invisible drool off his face. “See?”

“That’s exactly what Zuko and I do!” Sokka insisted only to be quickly deterred.

 _“Fuck off.”_ Toph waved him off at the same time as Katara’s _“No, let’s be honest-”_

“You’ve never kissed me on the cheek.” Zuko reminded him, only to get a genuine pout in response. Zuko would have laughed in his face if Sokka hadn’t chosen to look at him in that moment. He caught his eye and watched as blue eyes glanced down and then back up. 

“Really?” Sokka asked, the pout still held on strong, but something mischievous appeared alongside his gaze. 

“No,” Zuko said, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “Nothing below the eyebrows to above the wrists”

“Is that a rule we made?” Sokka leaned a little deeper into his space, if that was even possible. His weight was supported by a hand balled in a fist somewhere near Zuko’s right hip. He could feel the heat radiating off of Sokka’s skin, but couldn’t quite find where it was in the space. His attention focused ahead.

“Moreso a coincidence.” Zuko felt his face heating up. He broke the intense eye contact and ran a hand through his hair. No, his face wasn’t _just_ heating up. It probably had been for the entire conversation. Fuck, he was probably blushing something awful since Aang’s distraction. More out of embarrassment then-

“Can I kiss you on the cheek?” Sokka asked, derailing Zuko’s train of thought instantly.

“Yeah,” Zuko hoped he played it off as something casual. “Whatever. As you noticed, Aang does it all the time it’s not a big-”

Then Sokka kissed him. Not on the lips. Not in the way one’s eyes would bug open before they melted into the other’s embrace. There was no tongue sweeping over unparted lips to ask for entrance. There was no way to deepen it. No way for it to lead into something more.

But it might as well have been.

It was messier than it should have been. A series of fast pecks that turned into a longer one. His lips were a little more parted, the wetness from his bottom lip reminding Zuko that it was actually something that was happening and not just a flash of something innocent he wanted. Something they could have openly and casually if given the chance. If Zuko wasn’t himself and he could let it happen. When lips were separated from his cheek, he found his head being turned to meet blue eyes. Blue eyes that darted down to his lips again as if asking for more permission. Permission that Zuko was very willing to give. 

“I feel like I should have knocked before I saw that.” Aang broke the silence and the two of them broke apart. Zuko caught the barest of flushes on Sokka’s high cheekbones when he spared a glance back at him. His face was split in a wide smile as he laughed, dropping his chin to his chest as he did so. The fist found it’s spot behind Zuko’s hip again, that time in a certain space as the knuckle of Sokka’s thumb skirted along skin that Zuko didn’t realize was exposed. 

“No hookups!” Katara teased from the front, removing her hands from the wheel just for a moment as she raised six fingers up. Zuko almost laughed, he forgot they even had six rules. Hell, he forgot that hooking up was the last one as _secrets_ and _sneaking off_ were the ones used against him the most.

“I kissed him on the _cheek,”_ Sokka defended as he shifted just a little closer so their knees were knocking together and slid his hand fully underneath Zuko’s shirt in an impressively smooth move. Zuko wasn’t sure if he would have teased him or something similarly casual if it wasn't for the chill of the pads of Sokka’s fingers taking his breath away. Skirting along the small of Zuko’s back until he made it to the other side. His pinky dipped below Zuko’s waistband, while the rest of his hand stayed inside the shirt. His thumb rubbed circles around the expanse of skin. “What the fuck does a hookup look like to you?”

 _‘Sorta like this,’_ Zuko’s brain supplied him before he quickly shut it down. _‘No, Sokka wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. It feels eerily planned and exactly like something Sokka would do. But he wouldn’t. If anything was going to happen, which it won’t, he’d do a better job at hiding it.’_

“Are you cold?” Sokka asked abruptly, sitting up just enough to reach for the comforter that was bunched up near their feet. He draped it over their shoulders and overtop, letting it cross their fronts before Zuko even got the chance to respond. “I’m _freezing.”_

Zuko’s mind stuttered to a halt. He was almost certain his jaw was dropped and he knew for sure that his heart was quickening in his chest. Aang had abandoned the bed to instead dig through their measly fridge and various snack compartments tucked away. That was for the best as Sokka’s hand had settled in the dip where Zuko’s thigh and pelvis meet, bunching and releasing the fabric there just to tease him.

“I wouldn’t...” Katara sighed, still planning her defense. “I don’t-”

“You’re hesitating.” Sokka called out with a laugh, and before Katara had the chance to chastise him on that, Toph took the spotlight.

“Because whatever you and Sparky got going on right now is the perfect definition!” Zuko and Sokka began sputtering some cover story that didn’t match. But, Sokka didn’t let go, instead he moved closer. Skirting his hand down Zuko’s thigh and back up. Down and up. Outside and in. Down and up. “I can hear you moving, you just proved my point. Or maybe she’ll take one for the team and make hooking up anal or something as to not interr-”

“What the hell Toph?!” Katara shouted, Toph’s guffawing laughter earned another swat in her general direction, that one landed on Toph’s shoulder. “You can’t just _say things_ like that.”

“I just realized I have no idea how old you are,” Sokka teased, moving his hand from Zuko’s thigh just long enough to talk with his hands. “I don’t know if I like having this conversation with-”

“I’m _SIXTEEN_ I’m not a fucking child,” Toph sneered back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Now can we PLEASE talk about how homophobic the hookup rule is?”

“Why is it homophobic?” Katara asked, genuine concern dripping off her words. “It affects all of us.”

“Firstly, I don’t see why you should care if your brother is probably game planning how he’s gonna rail-”

“IT’S NOT ABOUT BUTT STUFF!” Katara cried out, cutting Toph off immediately as her grip was tight on the wheel. Zuko couldn’t see from his spot, but he was certain the girl was doing everything to not squeeze her eyes tight so her full body cringe could be complete. 

Zuko laughed despite himself, nowhere near as all encompassing as Sokka’s. Even Aang was giggling along even though he was probably just as thrown off as Katara was. “Did you just call it-”

“Butt stuff is a _very_ general term, Kat.” Sokka, interrupted, barely squeaking the phrase out between more laughter.

“It’s about comfort levels to everyone in the van,” Katara continued, steeling her voice back into a familiar motherly tone. Like she was forcing herself to be the mature one. “It’s about not making things _weird.”_

“Is it like...kissing?” Sokka pressed. “Making out?”

“Then Katara and I would have already hooked up.” Aang admitted between laughs before the van silenced abruptly. Zuko was certain that if a pin would drop it would have echoed off the walls. The sound of wheels on bumpy roads felt a little too loud.

Sokka was the first one to break the silence, throwing the blanket off of both of their shoulders in a dramatic flourish. “You and Katara _WHAT?”_

“Sokka-” Zuko began, trying to remind Sokka of what they _almost_ did. 

“This isn’t about us right now, baby,” Sokka waved him off, his eyes still trained on Aang. Katara tried to make a defense but Sokka spoke over her. “I’m just curious as to what my little sister thinks hooking up means and if she _hooked up_ with Aang.”

“So you _did_ call Zuko baby earlier!” Aang shot up from his spot on the floor, pointing an accusatory finger at the two of them. He used the headrest of the driver's seat for balance.

“Logistics.” Sokka said with a shrug.

 _“Semantics.”_ Zuko corrected.

“Oh, right. _You want to be a playwright._ Of course you know what words mean.”

“You…” Zuko hesitated, the initial intent of teasing and insisting that the two weren’t mutually exclusive only for all of that to melt away. “I said that to you _once.”_

“I mean… _Yeah.”_

“You remembered?”

Sokka looked at Zuko like he was crazy for even assuming otherwise. “Of course I did.”

“No-” Katara began, only for Zuko to snap and cut her off harsher than he realized.

“Katara if you say me talking about sentence structure with your brother is hooking up I swear to fucking god-”

“-more gas,” Katara finished sheepishly. The laughter finally died down fully as even Toph became distracted with the cranking window mechanism. “I was saying we have no more gas.”

“Oh…” Zuko deflated before the reality of her words sunk in. “ _Oh shit.”_

“What do you mean we’re out of gas?” Sokka sat up and scooched to the edge of the bed before climbing off. Zuko admittedly checked Sokka out as he stood, careful not to bump his head as he did so. “We’re electric most of the time. It took me like three hours to install that solar panel.”

“Only three hours?” Zuko asked without thinking, watching as Sokka turned to kneel in front of him, digging through the drawers tucked under the bed.

“I thought we established the genius thing earlier.” Sokka teased, shooting him a dazzling smile as he pulled out a duffle bag. Katara pulled onto the shoulder and Appa the Second sputtered to a stop as she parked.

“Appa doesn’t run well on fumes.” Aang mentioned absently as he leaned into the space between Toph and Katara, tapping at the gauges to see if the low counts were telling the truth or simply a fault.

“Appa doesn’t run well at all.” Toph scoffed, only to have Aang blanche.

“Take that back!”

“There’s a gas canister in the back we can probably fill the tank enough to make it…” Sokka stood up again and sighed. _“Somewhere,_ I guess.” Sokka huffed.

“Where?” Katara prompted as she pulled the key out of the ignition and turned the car off fully, letting the car descend into darkness. The fairy lights above them shutting off with a few spare twinkling. Zuko stood up as well and slid the blinds covering the side door windows open, just so they wouldn’t be in near complete darkness.

“At least the nearest gas station…maybe a hotel if we can make it.” Sokka huffed, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “But I don’t get why it wouldn't charge.”

“Maybe you messed something up.” Toph suggested as she stretched out again, crossing her ankles on the dashboard. Only garnering a mild complaint from Aang.

“May-” Sokka began, but Zuko cut him off with a hand to his shoulder.

“He would have noticed.”

Sokka was taken aback by it, Zuko didn’t understand why. Something he couldn’t quite parse passed through Sokka’s expression. “What?”

“You’re a meticulous little shit,” Zuko said instead, dropping his hand from Sokka’s shoulder down his arm and clasping his hand. With the original intent of offering a comforting squeeze only to decide at the last minute to not let go. “If it was an electric problem, you would have noticed.”

Sokka smiled back at him and Zuko took that as a sign to keep going. “I don’t think you’ll need help checking it out but-”

“You wanna be my assistant?” Sokka interrupted, Zuko only rolled his eyes.

“I wasn’t going to say _that_ but,” He agreed. “Yeah. _Your assistant.”_

Sokka tossed him a sweatshirt as if he needed it. Mumbling something about fending themselves from the harsh elements. As if a seventy-five degree night could be considered harsh. As if the heat they shared under the blanket for a mere few minutes wouldn’t keep him warm for the rest of the night. The gentle breeze helped melt away the last bit of unease that had made itself home in Zuko’s body. 

He looked down at his arms, admiring the painted on moon cycle up the sleeves. Sokka had let him use it before, but the gesture still felt like it meant something bigger than Zuko was allowed to understand. Sokka had grabbed a Yankees hoodie for himself, rolling up the sleeves to his elbows.

It was nice being alone. Or, alone in theory. Even with the occasional bits of conversation only separated by a swinging back door that they had yet to even try opening because neither Aang nor Sokka could remember if they bolted it down or not. Almost alone worked for him. Something _not quite lonely._

Sokka must have felt the same way as he caught Zuko’s eye for a moment longer than usual before pressing another kiss to his cheek. Pulling in a little aggressively at first, his hands cupping Zuko’s cheeks, before he slowed again for the kiss. Not a barrage of them like earlier, just two. One that could barely be considered a kiss on the cheek, but above his jaw. The second was lower, not the crook of his neck, but the point where jaw and ear meet. A little pocket that Sokka fit into naturally.

“What was that for?” Zuko asked once the kiss was broken, Sokka having pulled away fully and digging through a compartment of the van that he didn’t even know existed until that moment.

“No reason.” Sokka said over his shoulder, a mischievous smirk on his face. “I just felt like it.”

“Well…” Zuko hesitated, trying to get his brain back in working order to make a cognisant thought. To remind him that they absolutely _shouldn’t._ To mentally process why a kiss to the cheek and throat got him more riled than a wandering hand up and down his leg. “Thanks…”

Sokka laughed, something loud but not at all jarring, as he pulled a canister out from the compartment. Leaving the door hanging open. “Thanks?”

“I hated that I said it too.” Zuko said, attempting a quick recovery as his hand went to the back of his neck to rub away the embarrassment and heat that was beginning to rise.

Sokka cast a glance up at the sky, and Zuko followed suit automatically. The trees towered above them, reaching deep into the night. Those alone would have made Zuko feel small, but the dotted lights hanging eternal in a black sky made him feel like an ant. Was that what Sokka meant? That there were certain ways the stars deserved to be seen? That they deserved to be respected?

The moon was a waxing crescent lighting up the dirt road with a cool light and reflecting off of thousands of leaves like silver.

 _“S’pretty.”_ Sokka whispered, his voice only cracking into a normal register on the last sound.

“What was that?” Zuko looked back down, and the smallest of blushes spread across Sokka’s cheeks. A light pinky orange dust compared to the cool tones of the night. 

“The _stars_ are pretty.” Sokka enunciated, but it sounded more like a correction. He pointed upwards for emphasis.

“Yeah…Yeah, they are,” Zuko agreed looking back up again at the expanse of nothing. It was odd remembering the moon was closer than the stars. That each individual star was its own fiery sphere millions of lightyears away from the other. Some could have been blackholes already and the two of them could just be admiring the echo of its light. A rerun of something that had already ended. “Is this what you meant when you talked about respecting them?”

Zuko looked down again just long enough for Sokka to pout and take the few steps to close the space between them. Their shoulders rubbing against each other, the exposed skin from rolled sleeves bumping. One hand was tucked deep in his pocket while the other held tightly onto the canister, his arm swinging at the shifting of weight.

The two of them looked up again, admired in silence for a moment. “I mean,” Sokka said, something sad and distant in his tone. “It could be clearer.”

“I doubt it’ll ever be perfect.” Zuko looked back down and let himself take in Sokka’s profile. As if he hadn’t been staring at him or had been holding him for several hours. It wasn’t the closest they’d ever been in that moment. They’d kiss in the mask of being a show of _sort of_ platonic affection. They had hugged, embraces lasting longer than a gentle squeeze, but friends could do that. Zuko had fallen asleep with Sokka’s legs draped over his thighs, Sokka had fallen asleep with Zuko’s head on his shoulder. Despite all of that, it felt like Zuko was witnessing a side of Sokka he wasn’t meant to see. 

Which, Zuko realized, was a very large part of Sokka the more he noticed it.

The corners of his lips were turned down and his eyes were glassy as he looked up at the moon. Before Zuko had the chance to say anything, something he didn’t think he had the strength for anyway, Sokka looked back down. “It’ll be perfect, Zuko. It has to be.”

Zuko raised an eyebrow. “That sounded vaguely threatening.”

A smile broke through, wide and genuine and bright. “Scary or sexy threat?”

Zuko felt his jaw drop a little but forced himself to recover before the blush that was already teasing it’s way up his neck would break through. “I…” A laugh bubbled up, taking both of them by surprise. “I’ll keep you posted.”

“Middle of nowhere, baby.” Sokka winked, and his earlier words found their way back to circling in Zuko’s brain.

_I fake it until it stops hurting._

Whatever it was must’ve hurt in ways Zuko would never understand because if Sokka could fake something like that for so long and so casually, why were tears threatening to spill over and interrupt that constant thousand watt smile?

And why did Zuko want to be the one to fix it so bad?

“Sokka-” He started, a hand shooting out for reasons that Zuko couldn’t quite decipher himself. To comfort? To hold? _To be held?_

“I know. We can’t,” Sokka interrupted, wiping a bare arm at his eyes and breaking their connection. _“Just… just playing along._ It’s not a big deal.”

“That’s not what I was gonna-”

“Can you fill the tank for me?” Sokka shoved the canister out in a straight arm, the hard plastic hitting against Zuko’s chest and sloshing just enough to get the extra moment to hit it again with less force. “I’ll check the bits.”

“The…” Zuko stuttered, caught off guard. “The _bits?”_

“I stand by it.”

Zuko nodded, taking the gas canister in hand, and took a lap around the van until he found the right side. “Just… just whenever?”

“Yeah, just go for it,” Sokka waved from behind the car, his arm flapping in a vague direction for general acknowledgment.

Zuko did as he was told, and no more than two minutes of silence later did he hear a frustrated _“Ah…”_ followed by _“Shit.”_

“Is everything okay?” Zuko asked as he closed the filler tube with a snap and made his second lap to the back of the van only to see Sokka on his hands and knees. The sweatshirt was underneath him as he arched his back in a way that should have been illegal to see underneath the car. The hem of his shirt rising just enough to see a sliver of tan skin exposed between the shirt and the band of his boxers. _“Uh… I… Uhm.”_

“Can you grab some duct tape?” Sokka asked casually, sitting back on his heels.

“Yeah…” Zuko sputtered. “Yeah, of course I can do that… Where would I-”

Sokka made a vague gesture to the still open secret compartment. Right. Where he got the other theoretical auto tools like a gas canister, a single screwdriver, the machete that used to be in the glove department, and a few other odds and ends Zuko saw before pulling out the oversized roll of duct tape.

Zuko handed the duct tape off to Sokka, only then realizing the technicolor stains on the ground shifted as he got closer. _Shit._

“Oil leak?” Zuko asked, although it was fairly obvious. He just needed something to say so he wouldn’t stand off to the side uselessly as Sokka took long strips of tape and ripped them off with his teeth. Arms barely flexing at the exertion. “That doesn’t seem like… a gas problem.”

“It’s not. But, I don’t think it’s a _leak._ Not really,” Sokka spit some of the adhesive that had made its way into his mouth out before reaching for Zuko’s arm, holding him by the wrist, and sticking the duct tape strips up his forearm. “I mean, you just filled the gas tank. Or at least, sorta filled it. The oil leak is a _wheel_ for another day.”

Sokka looked at him expectantly, Zuko just blinked back. “Like dea-”

“No, I got it,” Zuko nodded. “I got it.”

Sokka huffed. “You don’t appreciate my genius.”

“Nor do you appreciate mine. We’ve been over this,” Zuko smiled down at him and Sokka smiled up before reaching for a long strip of tape and laying on his back. Contorting himself in odd and uncomfortable ways to reach underneath without the van being jacked up. “I’m no one to judge your car knowledge but-”

“Think you could do better?” Sokka interrupted without looking up from his focus.

“Oh no, please go ahead,” Zuko waved him off before burying his hands deep in the front pocket of his hoodie. Hoping that the several pieces of tape he had grabbed so far would be good enough. “You’re the one who wants to be an engineer. Which is probably where your trust in duct tape _STEMs_ from.”

“Duct tape can solve _any-”_ Zuko had to do everything in his power to not show how hurt he was about to be if Sokka didn't catch the only good pun Zuko was sure to make. Then, Sokka looked at him, some form of disbelief in his features. "Did you just make a-"

_“Maybe.”_

“I mean, good news,” Sokka sat up with a a sigh that turned more into a tired laugh, draping his arms over his knees and dropping his head to catch a breath. Despite the sweatshirt being used to protect him from the ground, sticks and specks of dirt still clung to his clothes. Zuko closed the space between them just enough so he could fish them out individually. An act that got a small smile cast up at him in response. “If college doesn’t work out, I could always be a mechanic. Well… I kinda only got sort of into cars because of the trip… but they’re _basically_ robots.”

“Wait, why don’t you think college will work out?” Zuko asked, only pausing for a moment to find more dirt dusted along his back. He huffed and sat down behind him, realizing the act would be more work than anticipated. “Lean back?”

Sokka did just that, letting his head drop against Zuko’s right shoulder. Keeping his chest puffed up just enough to have the space for Zuko to dust him off. “I told you-”

 _“Right,”_ Zuko held his hands up in defense. “An A-minus and a math guy trying to write an essay.”

_“Yep.”_

“How’s that going?”

“Uh… it’s… it’s _stagnant.”_

“Why?”

Sokka turned his head just enough so that his face was buried in the crook of Zuko’s neck. Not to kiss, at least not in a way that Zuko noticed. It was more like when a child would bury their face in their mother’s shoulder in a way of protest. _“It’s haaaard.”_ Sokka whined.

“Nothing _formative_ has happened yet?” Zuko asked as Sokka pulled away just enough to breathe. Their eyes caught a moment before Sokka spoke again.

“I don’t know,” He admitted. “It has for Katara. She already submitted hers. I don’t think I’ll even make the deadline.”

“You will.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Christ,” Zuko laughed despite himself. “With all that genius talk, I thought you’d think better of yourself.”

“Semantics?” Sokka sat up fully, straightening his back and stretching his arms over his head with a few satisfying pops.

“I think that one might be logistics.”

“If you _K_ so.” Sokka said with a lopsided grin and with more enthusiasm then it deserved. 

_“What?”_ Zuko asked, only five seconds after the hopeful look on Sokka was starting to warp into something of disappointment. Not inherently directed at Zuko, but the flop of… the pun? At least, he thought it was meant to be a pun.

“Like a logistic function?” Sokka prodded, even though his delivery made it obvious he knew it was a lost cause. He laid back down, returning his arms to their familiar but uncomfortable position to reach underneath the van. Zuko shifted out of the way just enough to watch. His legs criss cross as he leaned back onto his hands. “Like an S curve you know? K is how steep it is”

 _“Oh…”_ Zuko worried his bottom lip between his teeth, still watching as Sokka made awkward contortion after awkward grunt after awkward contortion to attempt to fix the minor leak. “You learn something new everyday.”

“English guy, right?”

“Yeah…” Zuko nodded, even though Sokka wouldn’t have noticed it. “Theater guy if we’re being specific.”

“Yeah, _Check-ah-v?_ ” Sokka said it like a question, testing out his pronunciation. Zuko was just impressed he remembered. It made him think back to all the other things he had said once off that Sokka might have caught and held onto. He shook the thought away, that would mean Sokka cared. Of course, the idea was nice, but not something he could humor himself with. Even if it was true, which felt scarily accurate, it wasn’t something that could happen. It was a game. It was craving intimacy and forcing his needs onto someone who was willing to give it.

“You’re close,” Zuko decided a correction would be better than an admission. “It’s pronounced with an F. _Check-awf.”_

“Got it.” Sokka tested the name once, twice, three times, before sighing and sitting up again. His back pressed against the car and his legs sprawled in front of him. His fingers tinged black with the stain of oil. _“I don’t know,_ I feel like whatever I say is supposed to have some greater meaning but… I’m kinda falling flat, and when I do find something it doesn’t feel honest. Nothing has really happened that would separate me from people. I’m average. An _A minus.”_

Zuko watched for a moment as Sokka pulled one knee to his chest before he spoke up. _“How easy it is to be a philosopher on paper, and how difficult in real life,”_ Sokka raised an eyebrow as he pulled the other leg up too. “It’s Chekov”

“Oh?”

“You’ll get in Sokka.”

Sokka’s brows knit together, the corners of his lips turned down. If Zuko hadn’t been paying attention, he wouldn’t have noticed the barely visible quiver of his lips before he dropped his head onto his folded arms over his knees. _“...Thanks.”_

Zuko reached out, pushed hair that had fallen in Sokka’s eyes out of the way. Rubbed the same circles that Sokka would always rub on his shoulder blades. “You would make a sexy grease monkey, though.”

Sokka should have smiled at that. Everything that made Sokka _'Sokka'_ would have smiled and laughed and joked. He would have agreed and went on with the idea. _You’re right Zuko. I would. I’d wear the sexy jumpsuit and you’d visit me because you can’t tell the difference between gas and oil and you need me to survive no matter how average I am._ Instead he met Zuko’s eyes, he looked oddly mature. The shadows deepened his features, warping his pout into something deeper. More aggressive. Or worse, more understanding but full of concern. And though Zuko only met the man once, he realized Sokka looked a lot like Hakoda. “Why can’t we?”

Zuko felt his heart stop. “What?”

“I mean it, Zuko,” Sokka said it like he finally remembered the last name that followed, but refused to acknowledge it. Letting the spite that came with the name hang in the air. He shifted so he was sitting cross legged, leaning a little closer into Zuko’s space but not touching. “Why can’t we? This isn’t me forcing you into anything it’s just-”

“I didn’t think it was-” Zuko said, sharp and direct. 

“I get that there’s something. And-” Sokka continued. “And I _really_ like the flirting thing we’ve got going on now. _I mean it._ I’m enjoying myself.”

“As am I. Where are you going with this?” Zuko’s heart started beating again. It might have been since the initial stutter at the question. But, only then did the speed begin to pick up. Hammering hard behind his ribs. “Do you want it to stop?” 

“What?” Sokka balked then surged forward, grabbing him by his wrists. He let himself be held for a moment as he forced his mind to calm down. Not at the idea of being touched, or even the thought of ending things. Not at the positive statement of Sokka wanting more. In any other case, Zuko would allow himself to want more too. But the last time he wanted more he lost the case. The last time he wanted more garnered gritted out truths from his father about how it was a life he could never get out of. “No, of course I don’t want it to stop. _Fuck, I don’t know what I-”_ Sokka was tripping over his words. Something Sokka wasn’t supposed to do.

He was nervous about the answer because he already picked through Zuko’s half truths. Finding a conclusion himself. If he assumed right, he wouldn’t still be holding on.

Sokka let his grip relax and he slipped their hands together. Zuko watched the fluid motion and let his fingers intertwine with familiar hands. “So it’s fine,” Zuko insisted. “Let’s not get too attached to each other, alright?”

“But _why?”_

_“...Baby, I-”_

_“No secrets.”_

_I’m about to ruin this._ Zuko’s mind raced. _I’m about to ruin this. I could lie and save it. He could be mine and I could hide it. I could keep running. And I’m about to let myself ruin it._

“No secrets,” Zuko agreed, testing his voice. It had leveled out impressively enough. His hands weren’t shaking. He didn’t feel faint or nauseous. He felt fine. He felt like shit, but he felt fine. “Are you out to Hakoda?”

Sokka’s face twisted in confusion. “What?”

Zuko just shrugged, letting himself look at Sokka again. Not the eyes. Somewhere neutral. Somewhere trained in the middle of his forehead or to the line of the bumper behind him. “It’s just that’s the sort of personal information that you lose control of. Minor shit. I just ask because it’s going to be one of the first things to go. So… are you?”

Sokka hesitated, his eyes darting around to find a place to settle too. “... No.”

“But it’s not like he’d care. He has Bato. He won’t react poorly if he were to find out without you telling him, right?”

“Well,” Sokka pulled his hands away, Zuko almost reached out and followed. “He’d be disappointed.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because I wasn’t the one to tell him,” Sokka said it like it was the most obvious answer in the world. _Funny._ “I’ve kinda always told him everything. Other than… well… _that_ I guess. I mean, he’s probably Bi himself. Yes, the pun was intended.”

Zuko did his best to ignore that. “I’m serious, Sokka.”

“So am I.”

“That’s kinda the thing about fathers though, isn’t it?” Zuko asked, just the thought making him lose his composure for a moment. He heard more then felt his voice waver. He cleared his throat before talking again. “The ones who actually listen already know everything.”

“Isn’t that a mom thing?”

“I don’t know, how about we both call our moms and ask.” Sokka broke the pseudo eye contact first, leaning his full weight back into the car and turning his head away from Zuko.

“What’s your point, baby?” Sokka said, but didn’t bother looking back. “I don’t know what you’re trying but-”

“You wanted to know why,” Zuko pressed. “You wanted to know the truth. This is me, admitting to all I can without…” He wasn’t even sure where he was going with it. 

“What aren’t you saying?”

_I’m not saying that I knew you, really knew you, for no more than forty eight hours before my father knew where you lived. I’m not telling you how I made Jet sign a contract before we made it further. I’m not telling you how he agreed because he got something out of it and how you wouldn’t have near enough benefits. I’m not telling you that I’m unpalatable and I’m not reminding you that my father not giving a fuck about anything or anyone is why you’re motherless. I don’t know the details but I do know my father._

“Zuko?”

“You know how some parents will get rid of their kid’s locked door privileges?” Zuko said, feigning humor in a way that Sokka had morphed into an art. He hoped it carried through, as Sokka offered him a gentle smile. 

“Yeah, one time when I was spending the summer with Gran Gran she made me go out and get a new doorknob for my room and then made me install it myself because she got frustrated with the screwdriver.”

“What’d you do?”

Sokka shrugged. “I did some stupid shit is all. I used to do and say a _lot_ of stupid shit.”

“Well, imagine that sort of thing, but instead of the lock, your whole door is taken off,” Zuko went to rub his arms, only to remember the duct tape there, having wrapped around his forearm, leaving metallic stripes up the skin. “Nothing is really your own anymore. You’re always watched. And even if you're not being seen actively, the risk is still there. If you slip and the wrong person walks by-”

“What are you saying, Zuke?”

“I’m saying that Ozai Hiranuma is still my _father,”_ Zuko’s voice cracked. Sokka opened his mouth to say something but Zuko cut him off. “I know talking about my dad makes you uncomfortable. And I mean _nauseatingly_ uncomfortable. That kind of uncomfortable that keeps you up at night. And I know you _hate_ remembering it, but that’s my entire fucking life!”

“Zuko-”

“No,” Zuko pushed himself to stand. “This is the longest I’ve been able to talk, at least let me finish digging my grave before I jump in, alright? Let me have that.”

“You’re thinking of ending this,” Sokka concluded, his eyes distant and unfocused. “Aren’t you?”

“No! Fuck, that’s not-” Zuko fumed as he ran a hand up his face and into his hair. “The thing is that I don’t want to. _I don’t._ I don’t know what I want, honestly. Or what I’m allowed to want. I told you, we make good friends. Or… or _whatever the fuck this is._ It’s fine. What we have is fine. There’s a lot that you have no right to know about me. Not because I don’t want you to but… _because you’re better off that way._ And I finally made myself tolerable for you and I can’t ruin that! _”_

Zuko stopped himself before more words spilled out. Because he was selfish. Because he only told half truths and couldn’t commit fully to ruining the one good thing he had. 

But Sokka looked up at him like he had. His face was void of emotion for a moment. He looked down at the ground, and back at the car. A smile broke out, splitting his face in two as he looked back. “What were you saying about me being a sexy grease monkey?”

Zuko was right earlier. Sokka may have been able to fake it, but his eyes were still blank. “No more than this?” Zuko tested, more for himself than Sokka.

“Yeah. _No more than this,”_ Sokka nodded, looked back to the van, back to Zuko. “But _please,_ keep stroking my ego. You were at sexy grease monkey.”

“Uh…” Zuko shook his head, forcing his composure to return. “Give me a second.”

“Why?”

“Some of us aren’t as good at pretending as others.”

“You seem to be doing _just fine.”_

Zuko sighed, running his hands back down his face, both settling around his throat as they both took in the silence. Zuko remembered that Sokka hated silence. “Uh… you’d look good in the… the coveralls. But, you probably don’t want to hear that.” His smile faltered in the slightest.

“It’s actually exactly what I needed to hear,” Sokka pushed himself up and stepped in close enough for Zuko to have to tilt his head up to meet his eyes. “You need help with the tape?”

Zuko held his arm out and watched as Sokka pushed up the sleeve, offering a preemptive apology for the arm hair Zuko was probably about to lose. “The longer you wait the more it’ll hurt.”

Sokka ran his thumbnail underneath the first strip of tape, picking up the edges just enough to hold a little. It had barely stuck down, but it’s adhesive was naturally strong. _“There is no greater sorrow than to know another’s secret when you cannot help them.”_

Before Zuko had the chance to process what Sokka had said, the bastard ripped the tape off. Zuko spit a string of curses and began to pull his arm away before Sokka put his hand over top the spot of red and raw skin to ease the pain. Shushing him in the process, mumbling something about Katara thinking something. Then he began to work on the second. _Rip._ Third. _Rip._

Zuko took a moment to speak up, doing so through gritted teeth and Sokka ran his thumb over the last raw red spot. He had lost less hair than he expected. “Why’d you just quote Uncle Vanya to me?”

“Because you like Chekov,” Sokka kept his eyes trained on his own hand around Zuko’s forearm, brows knit together in thought as if he was fact checking his own sentence. Testing to see if he said the playwrights name right or said the line without flubs. “I got bored and learned a few quotes. Some funny, some impressive.”

“Like what?”

“ _What fine weather today!”_ Sokka started, still not pulling his hand away. _"Can’t choose whether to drink tea or to hang myself.”_

Zuko was impressed with his ability to not make a comment on how that quote pretty much summarized his whole life.

Warm white light began to fill their space in the middle of nowhere. The distant rumbling of an engine and the sound of rubber on gravel signaled that they weren’t alone anymore. Zuko made the motion to pull his arm away from Sokka’s grip, only to have his momentum halted. Sokka grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him off to the side of the van.

The two of them were quiet, watching as the car approached, speeding along without a sign of slowing. Whoever was driving had their high beams on, and would have blinded anyone if their path.

“What are you-” Zuko began, but didn’t need to finish. As he looked down the road, the car getting closer and closer, he felt his heart drop into his stomach. _“This isn’t happening.”_ The two of them squatted down beside the outer wheel, Sokka shifting a little so that he was obscuring most of Zuko’s body. Zuko pulled his sleeves down, pulled his hood on, put a heavy hand on Sokka’s shoulder to keep his balance.

Sokka was silent as a silver SUV rushed by. Zuko could barely make out the driver in the dark. Behind the wheel was a larger man with a shaved head and a beard, gold rings reflecting light in his rearview mirrors. Zuko hated that he recognized the rings as his own that he had abandoned on the kitchen table before leaving the estate. Apart of him wondered if the man had his mother's gold chain too. 

In a flash, the car continued down the road. The driver barely spared them a glance.

Zuko sat back on his heels, shaking his head in disbelief. 

Sokka kept looking down the road, like he was waiting for more.

_I’m so fucking selfish._

“Are you okay?” Zuko asked, even though he knew the answer. Technically, yes, Sokka was fine. He was perfect. He was better than he should have been. But Zuko recognized the look. The same darting eyes from compulsive mirror checks. The sudden tension in his shoulders like an attack dog who saw a stranger for the first time.

“Yeah, just… I’ve just… _Yeah,”_ Sokka said, offering a shy smile that disappeared just as fast. “Land rovers are pretty common, right?” Obviously it was something he said to himself in feigned comfort, as if they weren't actively hiding behind a car to not be seen by said SUV. Pretty common wasn't the issue, but Zuko couldn't help but correct him.

“It’s a range rover.” Zuko pointed out, looking past the hull of the van one more time as the SUV disappeared into the distance fully. Taking its light and it’s rumbling engine with it.

“I thought you said you didn’t know much about cars.”

“I don’t. I just know how to fuking read,” Zuko agreed, pointing down the road at the now empty road ahead of them. “It says Range Rover on the back.”

 _“Ah,”_ Sokka hummed, making no motion to get up quite yet. He finally met Zuko’s eyes, and Zuko wished he hadn’t. There was too much understanding in them. Too much pity. “I don’t know how I didn’t see that.”

“You weren’t looking hard enough.”

“Well, you weren’t looking at all,” Zuko couldn’t fight that. Sokka looked back down the road. “It’s like getting your door taken off, huh?”

"It was easier to say then stalked, you know?" Zuko offered with a sympathetic shrug. "But in my defense I didn't-" He did. He knew that could have happened. Because he was selfish. "Nevermind."

Sokka sat down fully, letting his head drop back to the curve of the hull. _"Fuck."_

"Yeah," Zuko nodded as he sat beside him. Leaving enough space so they wouldn't be touching. “When did you first notice it?”

“California.”

 _“Fuck,”_ Zuko scoffed, breath escaping that he didn’t even realize was held tight in his chest. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"It's kinda all I can let myself say right now."

"We could backtrack," Sokka offered, turning his gaze to the ground between them. "I mean, we need to find somewhere to stop anyway. There was a little town about an hour back. It won't stop him for too long, but it can give us some time. Throw him off his rhythm a la J.J Bittenbinder."

"I can't believe you thought now was a good time for a John Mulaney reference."

Sokka shrugged, his usual demeanor completely sucked out of him. "No such thing as a bad time."

"Baby-"

"Don't," Sokka cut him off and let out a deep sigh. "I just need a second, okay?"

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Sokka finally looked at him, but only for a moment before he looked back down. Wetting his bottom lip. "Not right now, Zuko," He reached out for Zuko's hand again, lifted it up and pressed a kiss the knuckle of his ring finger. "I just need to get us the fuck out of dodge right now."

**_-_**

The progress lost was worth dampening the threat of being followed. At least, that’s what Sokka insisted in so few words as to not worry the others when they started seeing familiar signs and lights from a smaller city. It didn’t feel worth it to Zuko. Nothing inherently felt “worth it.” It was necessary.

Necessary and all his fucking fault.

Sokka drove and bantered with Katara and Toph like nothing happened. Like Zuko didn’t just actively ruin the one good thing he had. Or, maybe he didn’t ruin it. He severed it. Nice things weren’t something he could have. Ever. Sokka deserved someone better. Sokka deserved someone whose mere existence didn’t keep them on the cusp of danger.

Toph attempted some form of comfort, because Zuko couldn’t lie to her and his shaking hands gave it away. She had insisted that, given the chance, her parents would probably send someone after her too. _It was just something rich parents did,_ she said. The kind of rich parents that care in the wrong ways. With nannies and money dumped into accounts and roses and weekend long cruise vacations to keep their children out of the house.

Zuko never knew what caring felt like, he knew Ozai Hiranuma wasn’t capable of caring for him, but it almost felt… _nice?_

It was overtly shitty, knowing that he could never get away from his father. It was shitty knowing that it was his life and would be his life forever. It was shitty knowing that whatever Gyatso was pulling that Aang only told half truths about would never work. It was shitty that Ozai was careless about the things he did as long as it ended in getting what he wanted. Which, for the first time in a long time, was getting Zuko back home.

Which was where the hesitance was.

Maybe he was just humiliated. Maybe he just wanted to feel like he mattered in a way that wouldn’t get anyone hurt but himself. He could handle his own pain. He’d done it for years. Nobody should’ve shouldered his baggage.

Nonetheless, they pulled up into the makeshift parking lot made out of rough gravel beside a sandstone motel painted yellow.

The entrance was homey, decorated more with various potted greenery than furniture. Terracotta pots painted turquoise and orange scattered the path to the front desk. A smooth wood also near overtaken with hanging spider plants and particularly overeager vines. An older woman slouched behind the desk, her attention split between the book of Sudoku folded and crinkled with age and an over-sized mug of tea which she mixed with a wooden stirrer. The steam floated into the air and left droplets on the leaves and fogged her glasses.

Katara was the one to step up first after a near incident of tripping on a piece of the chipped linoleum.

“Hi!” She said automatically, before sputtering and attempting to correct herself.

Before she had the chance, the lady looked up and offered them a gentle smile. “Americans?”

“Unfortunately.” Zuko answered. The admittance already had way too much weight to it as is. But the extra level of Zuko being the missing son of a current American politician/businessman only made it worse. 

“My English is good,” The old woman insisted, standing up fully as she did so. Her accent was thick but she caressed the words so gently as if the knowledge of the language was a prized possession of hers. Realistically, she probably stacked her knowledge of languages on the highest shelf, displaying those that she was proud of having. Hell, Zuko wouldn’t have been surprised if he were to drop a sentence in Japanese and have the lady decipher it with minimal thought. Many who ran the various motels, hotels, and hostels that they had stumbled upon could do that. “How can I help?”

“Hi,” Katara said again, her smile matching the softness of the old woman’s. “Uh… can we get one bedroom for the night?”

“One?” The woman repeated, looking at the group. She held up a single finger as if to assure that they were all talking about the same numerical amount. “One bedroom?”

“Two beds and one…” Katara glanced back at Toph, who was holding onto Sokka’s arm as she carried two bags on one shoulder, her cane still in Sokka’s free hand as he fiddled with it. Letting it extend about a third of the way before folding it back up and doing it again. Hers and Katar’s bags hanging from her shoulders. “Cot?” Katara finished, twisting her face into some discomfort at the thought. As if she was already preparing for a barrage of complaints from Toph.

Toph didn’t hesitate with her abandonment of Sokka’s arm and dropping both bags to the ground. “Whose sleeping on the cot because it sure as hell isn’t me,” Toph huffed. “Twinkletoes can take it. Or, I can just sleep in the van.”

“We’re not letting you sleep in the van alone,” Katara countered, folding her arms over her chest with finality. “Do you know how dangerous that is?”

“Well, it's not like anyone is looking for me.”

“That doesn’t-”

“Two bedrooms,” Zuko interrupted as he forced a smile towards the nice front desk lady. It probably looked more like a grimace with the pitied look she offered back. “I’ll get my own room. Make it easier on everybody.”

“So…” The woman began again, eyebrows knitting in either the beginning of frustration or the realization of the tension between the five of them. “Two rooms? One with two fulls and-”  
Tension that only heightened when Sokka stepped up and leaned his elbows onto the table with a “Me too,” He barely looked over his shoulder at Zuko before turning his attention back to the lady. “Now that I know it’s an option.”

Katara and Toph halted their bickering for a moment while Aang looked between the two of them. As if he was trying to find the fault of his perfect _and a half logic_ from earlier.

Toph started to smirk, and Aang changed his gaze towards her. Maybe they were thinking something entirely different.

The lady must have also sensed the change as she pursed her lips. “Two bedrooms, one bed in-”

 _“Three.”_ Zuko and Sokka spoke simultaneously. Sokka’s tone was more friendly and casual. Like admitting that he wanted to be alone was just something expected of him. As if Sokka wouldn’t usually throw himself at the chance to be close to someone. Zuko was certain his delivery wasn’t near as jovial. But that could have been due to his own disposition than his obvious pity party he was torturing himself with.

The woman seemed to side with Sokka’s attitude though, as the smile returned, albeit a little concerned still. “Three rooms attached? Or separate?”

“Attached is-” Sokka started, but Zuko’s own wishes were pouring out of his mouth before he had the chance to stop himself.

“I’d like to be across the hall,” Zuko said, faltering on the last word as Sokka looked over at him again. “Or… something if it’s available. I just don’t want to be attached.”

And then, Sokka had the fucking audacity to laugh and let his head drop down in between hunched shoulders. _“Literally.”_

“Three bedrooms would be awesome,” Aang stepped up finally, holding onto the buckled backpack straps over his shoulders a little tighter than he needed. Like a child marching to their second day of school. Not the first, never the first. Because that meant fear at something new and the thought of leaving family behind. But the second, _as the fear still lingered,_ but there were friendly faces on the other side. That’s how Aang went through most everything. Ever the peace keeper. That thought was only solidified when he did a couple of friendly taps to a spot between Sokka’s shoulder before settling his hand there and continuing his talk with the front desk lady. “Three bedrooms. One with Two beds. The other two with one.”

The woman nodded, probably ecstatic that the one kid who wasn’t going through some apparent shit stepped up to save her from the melodrama. “That one will need to check in by himself.” She made a vague gesture in what Zuko could only translate as being directed towards him.

“That’s fine.” He said, admittedly coming out closer to a grumble.

Her conversation continued with Aang, settling the placement of where the connected rooms would be. And, since it was a courtyard, Zuko couldn’t exactly be across the hall. But, maybe the lady was familiar with general teen angst (Zuko still felt his ‘angst’ was a little more developed than general) as she translated his request better than Zuko explained it. _Across the hall? No. As far as physically possible? Sure, why not._

It was nicer than he thought it would be. Instead of a pool, the courtyard was overtaken by saltillo tiles and more flora. None of the tiles the same with their varying shades of rusty oranges and browns that reflected off of the lights along each door or those that spilled out from the windows of the rooms. A path of cracked concrete slabs winded it’s way through the courtyard, connecting one side to the other. The motel had two floors, all with doors pointing inward.

Zuko’s room was on the first floor. He fiddled with the sticky locks and the noticeably freshly pressed key with it’s jagged edges and flaking metal. Across from him and one floor up were the other two rooms.

He _did_ say he didn’t want them attached. But the fact that the eyeline was almost unavoidable made the distance feel like nothing.

At least until he closed the door behind him to his own hotel room. The others having gone to their rooms before he even finished checking in.

The lady had recognized him. Not in a way that would bring the crippling anxiety back. Hell, he made sure of it. He paid with cash _(the money dwindled faster than he thought it would, but that could have been because he realized Sokka liked being given gifts. The more trinket-y and oddly expensive the better. It had only been a little over a week and Zuko had gifted him three different mood rings, a bag with aztec art printed onto it, an obscene amount of gas station t-shirts with the wolves…)_

If he used cash, it didn’t count as a traceable money trail, right?

Either way, he paid with cash, he used his mother’s maiden name paired with his middle one, signed with his right hand instead of his left. Anything to make it seem like Zuko Hiranuma wasn’t at a motel that didn’t quite reach the standards for a star rating but had all the charm that warranted at least three. Because Zuko Hiranuma wasn’t supposed to be in a different state, let alone a different continent.

Lee Roku was, though.

Lee Roku wouldn’t have been forcing breaths into tired lungs with his back against a surprisingly heavy door. Lee Roku wouldn’t have looked Sokka in the eye and admitted that no matter what, he’d still be himself. Which was bullshit because Zuko could play someone else without difficulty as long as it was Zuko- _adjacent._

“I’m sorry,” The woman leaned onto the table and stage whispered to him. “You look so familiar.”

 _“Mi madre es actriz,”_ He mumbled as he signed the fake name. Because it wasn’t common knowledge that Zuko Hiranuma knew the language. They knew he went to a boarding school and that his second language was Japanese. All true, but two years of basic Spanish language education was enough to bury the connection. _“Ella estaba en películas y obras de teatro.”_

She was impressed with his attempt although he knew his accent was shit and he felt like he had to have fucked up something in that sentence. More likely than not the verb form, but she didn’t mind. She asked the movie, he said _Love Amongst the Dragons._ It wasn’t a Lifetime movie technically but it ended up on the channel around every Chinese New Year on the TV to make them feel inclusive. Often chopped up to make it fit in a two hour slot with commercials while fitting a PG rating and shouldered in between _Lust, Caution_ and _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_. Which was a whole _separate_ issue in itself. But, she seemed happy with his answer.

Lee Roku wouldn’t be shoving panic and bile back down his esophagus with increasingly desperate swallows of air. But for Zuko, it was the second time doing that in roughly five hours.

But it was Lee Roku’s hotel room so the least he could do was act like him.

He tossed his bag on the bed, only slightly put off by the puff of what Zuko hoped was dust wafted up from the bed. The carpets were a coppery brown that matched the brickwork outside in the courtyard. The walls were a much more muted yellow, than the outer ones. Something that could be considered cream with the low lights, but he was certain would show their true colors if the windows caught the sun in the mornings.

He dug a water bottle from his bag, a metal reusable one that he was certain technically belonged to Aang as the stickers were variations of _‘Save the Trees’_ and _‘Fish are friends, not food.’_ Zuko let the water soothe his throat before the nausea would turn into hacking and clawing breaths.

There was a familiar patterned knock at the door, Zuko didn’t have to look through his window to know it was Aang. He barely took in that the curtains were already open and exposed the courtyard to his room before answering the door.

“You probably look like shit,” Toph was the first one to greet him before shoving past him into the room, only to then wait for Aang to follow after her. “Am I right?”

Aang barely spared him a glance as he reached his arm out for Toph to grab it and pull him close. “I mean, yeah. _A little.”_

“I doubt you needed to come in to say that,” Zuko rasped and let the door swing closed. Already knowing kicking them out wasn’t going to be something that would work. If it was just Aang maybe, but Toph weighted the flighty kid down like a stone. He took another sip of water before he spoke again. “Why?”

“There was a roach,” Toph said, making a point to jolt herself just enough to get Aang to stumble into her. “Twinkletoes here doesn’t want to see Katara kill it.”

“She said she wouldn’t kill him,” Aang countered. “She had a cup and a business card in her hand, so I feel like she won’t.”

Toph made a show of an attempted eyeroll. “That and she’s talking to Sokka about-”

“No,” Zuko cut her off, letting his eye close as he pressed the bridge of his nose. “No, I am not doing this.”

“Jesus,” Toph finally let go of Aang and took a few careful steps until she was sure she made it to Zuko’s bed and threw herself onto it. “Don’t get too cocky. We barely care about whatever _that_ is.”

“I mean, _we care,”_ Aang corrected, choosing to sit on the desk pushed up against the wall instead. “Because Sokka’s our friend and so are you. And something’s obviously wrong _there._ And if that’s what’s bothering you so much we can talk about it-”

“Nothing is wrong.” Zuko barely got to interject before Aang shouldered forward.

“But we actually know, Zuko,” Aang sighed. “The…”

“The what?”

“The… _everything.”_ Aang made a grand but general motion with his hands.

“I promise you,” Zuko took a few strides until he was near the bed, sitting beside where Toph laid. The thought of the dust still a little too close to the front of his mind to let himself fall back fully. “You don’t know as much as you think.”

“Well, we want to help.” Aang insisted, leaning forward in his seat.

“With what?”

“Whatever this is about,” Aang sighed, and ran his hands through his short cropped hair. He was surprised the kid managed to grow it as long as he did. “Is it the case?”

Any other time, Zuko would want to gloat that he was right. It was his own misfortune affecting the others that he was right about it, but he was still _right._

He was right because he knew he couldn’t have good things and he was right because he wasn’t safe to be around. But fuck, the kid was trying to help. He didn’t need to know quite yet. There was still an air of comfort about him, no need to ruin it. It was Aang’s trip after all.

Zuko forced a deep breath. Forced his father out of his mind. Forced Lee Roku back into position. “It’s _Sokka.”_

Aang visibly brightened at that, even Toph sat up. Intrigued at the possible gossip she was about to partake in, despite her waving off the idea a few moments prior.

 _No gossiping,_ that was technically a part of the no secrets rule that they all just loved to bring up against him. It wasn’t like the others didn’t talk about him behind his back. He wasn’t an idiot. He saw the knowing looks between the siblings and the silent conversations. Hell, they were probably talking about him if the roach problem was handled. Or even real to begin with.

“Well, Sparky,” Toph made a go ahead motion. “Now I wanna know why the fuck you guys are so prickly around each other all of a sudden.”

“Yeah,” Aang agreed with a nod. “You two flipped really fast.”

“I was just too honest, I think.” Zuko hummed, letting his gaze fall down to the rough looking carpet under his feet.

“There’s no such thing.” Aang offered with a smile before getting waved off by Toph.

“That’s bullshit. _Fuck honesty,”_ Toph offered a surprisingly gentle punch to Zuko’s shoulder. Great, even she was pitying him. “What part did Snoozles freak out at? I don’t know why but I always took him as a commitment issue guy.”

Zuko’s face twisted in discomfort. _Technically I’m the commitment issue guy._ “I wasn’t that honest.”

“Well, how honest were you?” Aang pressed. He brought his legs up so that he was sitting fully on the table in a half lotus. His hands on either side of them, most of his weight put onto the left. And maybe Zuko had known Aang too long or maybe he walked past the therapy sessions that were held in the living room with Gyatso, Aang and whatever kid wanted to talk. That was how Aang sat when he was _listening actively._ If he went the extra mile to hold his palms upward in his lap, a show of being open and non judgmental, Zuko would have crossed the few feet separating them and shoved him off the table.

“Don’t,” Zuko started. The sixteen year old looked down at himself like he hadn’t noticed at all. “I’m not talking to you if you do that.”

“What?” Toph asked, twisting her face in a grimace. “What’s he doing?”

“I was just sitting,” Aang huffed and let one leg drop off the edge of the desk again, letting the other remain tucked under his thigh as he leaned forward. Holding himself up with his fist. “What did you say to Sokka? Or what happened?”

“And since Sugar Queen isn’t here,” Toph teased. “Don’t spare us the juicy details.”

“There’s no details.” Zuko shrugged. “I just… We just _talked.”_

“Did you talk _at_ him?” Aang pressed, still using his careful tone. “Or was there a real give and take?”

“I gave him the chance to talk, but he just…he just went along with it. So, we just dropped it.”

“You’re pissed because Sokka agreed with you? Or are you pissed because he didn’t fight you about it?” Toph asked, an eyebrow raised like she was challenging him. “I’m not gonna say the _J_ word. But, you are totally treating Sokka like him right now.”

“Don’t say that,” Aang defended. “Zuko wasn’t the one in the wrong with him.”

“Guys-” Zuko tried to intervene, only to be cut off by Toph.

“We heard the same relationship horror stories, right?” Toph asked. “They were shitty together, we know that. And yeah, maybe he was shittier than Zuko. By a landslide. That doesn’t mean he should take that out on Sokka, you know?”

Zuko’s silence must have done enough for Toph as she blew a low whistle “Shit, you really _did_ fuck something up. Didn’t you?”

 _“I know!”_ Zuko groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “And I can’t stop fucking up! No matter what I do I just-”

Toph, for the first time in awhile, read the room. She patted his leg, once twice, three times, before speaking up. Her voice was surprisingly genuine. “It’s obvious he cares, he’ll come running back if you let him.”

Zuko wasn’t sure how to react to that. He barely had the time to process it before Aang started up again. “Yeah!” He beamed. “And we already know he likes you a lot.”

“You don’t know tha-”

“No, we do,” Aang scoffed, hopping down from his space on the desk. “He borrowed my phone once _just_ to see your nu-”

_“He what?!”_

Toph’s gentle demeanor cracked as she burst into a fit of laughter, falling back on the bed and holding onto her sides. Aang at least had the decency to blush and cringe at his admission. He quickly tried to cover his tracks with his hands extended in defense. “I thought you _knew.”_

“He told me he didn’t get that far,” Zuko huffed, crossing his arms and tucking his hands under his armpits. “But… but that’s not… _that’s not what’s weird.”_

“Well then what is?”

Toph laughed harder. “He looked on _your_ phone!” She said between cackles. “Fuck, Sparky. I changed my mind. You guys are perfect together! You’re both hopeless!”

Aang had the audacity to blush a deeper scarlet. “He could have checked on his own if you let people into your life.”

“Don’t try and turn this into a life lesson, Guru goody goody,” Zuko sighed, a new wave of pure embarrassment washing over him. _“Fuck me…”_

“Isn’t that what Sokka’s been trying to do?” Toph teased, nudging him with her foot.

Zuko barely had the energy to fight about it anymore. Sokka wasn’t even the problem in the first place. He was a part of the problem. Or, more accurately, he was one of the many dominoes knocked over due to the main problem. His father was the problem. _Ozai_ was the problem.

 _Zuko was the problem._ But, he was tired of talking about himself.

He looked up over his hands, surprised to see Aang still sporting a deep blush. Zuko knew in that moment he was either about to be a horrible friend, or one that was closer than he should have been.

“Was Kuzon the first person you ever dated?” The moment the question slipped past Zuko’s lips, every muscle tense with positivity within Aang faltered. As if just hearing the name removed ten pounds to his shoulders.

“I mean,” Aang said, looking anywhere but the bed. “I was a fourteen so… yeah.”

“Why didn’t you think to tell me about it?”

“I did.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “Yeah, _yesterday.”_

“Because it didn’t matter,” Aang defended, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Why don’t you want to talk about it, Aang?”

“Yeah,” Toph joined Zuko’s barrage, sitting up again. “I didn’t even know you were queer until Hotman. If you were scared to come out to us-”

“No,” Aang began. “It’s not-”

“-You had every right to be. We’re both judgemental bitches,” Toph teased, speaking over Aang’s interjection. “I’m only a little hurt that Snoozles and Sugar Queen knew before me and Zuko.”

Zuko furrowed his brow and looked over at Toph. “I knew, I just didn't know he dated Kuzon.”

 _“You-_ Jesus, you guys keep **_everything_ ** from me!” She cut herself off with throwing her hands up and dropping them back down dramatically back into her lap.

The conversation didn’t get much further until there was a knock. Sokka and Katara invited themselves in, it wasn’t like Zuko was going to say no anyway. They kept talking like they had in the van. Sharing stories, telling jokes, Zuko tried to play along, but he just couldn’t.

_What’s the point of getting my own room if I can’t be alone?_

They reestablished their itinerary.

Katara still wanted the swing at the end of the world. Sokka still vouched for Bolivia and spoke over Zuko’s. _Beach, middle of nowhere._ Toph requested a do-over, but she couldn’t decide what she wanted. Something loud and exciting. _Something Twinkle Toes wouldn’t need a breather from._ Katara made a point of reminding everybody of laundry.

Laundry was still a main goal.

Laundry and hot baths and real food and making sure Appa the Second would make it to the ends of the earth without incident. Sokka and Zuko thought it best not to bring up the tapejob underneath or the range rover tracking them.

 _I’m ruining this._ Zuko wasn’t even sure if he said it out loud, as it didn’t get a reaction. The conversation continued. Morphing and shifting into more stories, anecdotes, familiarities. Zuko finally listened into the story about Sokka and the dance team. Katara told them like she was reading it from a history book. Sokka’s and Aang’s interjections saved the story. It was the second time they told it that night.

“You weren’t listening?” Sokka had asked, laying down on the bed in front of him. His head pillowed by folding his arms and his legs hanging off of the bed. Zuko only looked down at him and shrugged.

“I _never_ listen to you,” Sokka laughed and broke the eye contact they had held. “I hear you, but I’m barely listening.”

The conversation morphed into what time they would leave. Aang settled on something early and Sokka groaned at the prospect. Katara reminded them: _Laundry._ Toph laughed at their complaining as if Katara wouldn’t sit her down and teach Toph how to do her laundry herself.

Itinerary, dancing, laundry, itinerary, laundry, self-care.

Zuko knew the path of the conversation, but he couldn’t get himself to speak up. _I’d ruin this._

Everything felt weird. He didn’t feel like he was in his own body. He was being spoken too but he couldn’t speak back. He could hear but he couldn’t listen. He was in his hotel room, but simultaneously thousands of miles away either in his bedroom at the estate or on the kitchen floor or on his back in Sokka’s backyard high for the first time in his life.

God, what he would give to be high.

At least he could feel out of his body in a pleasant hazy way instead of his brain doing it on his own.

It was Katara’s shoulder bumping into his own and Sokka’s hand on his knee shaking slightly that brought him back.

“Sorry?” Zuko mumbled listlessly, trying to find his place in the room again. He was on the bed, still covered in a fine layer of dust. Sokka was in front of him, he knew that. Katara sat behind. Toph laid across the pillows at the head of the bed. Aang took up the furthest right side, laying on his front and swinging an arm back and forth along the scratchy decorative duvet.

For a moment he didn’t understand the curiosity of the woman at the front desk. One bedroom and a queen sized bed. They could have made it work. A problem for another night when _(if)_ money’s tight. Or they could stay in the van.

Nope… Laundry.

Katara looked at him with an expression he had never seen before. Something fiercely protective but still oddly motherly. “Sokka just said your hair’s gotten long.”

As if on autopilot, Zuko’s hands ran through his hair. Maybe it had. It almost reached his shoulders and his bangs were actually starting to pose a problem. “Yeah… yeah I guess it has.”

“Are you okay?”

 _No._ “I-” _I think I want to go home._ “I don’t-” _I don’t deserve you guys._ “I’m tired.”

At least that one was honest.

Zuko knew that when he almost said home, he didn’t mean the estate.

Sokka looked up at him expectantly.

“Did you just say something?”

Sokka laughed. He just _kept_ laughing. “No, baby. Not to you.”

“Okay,” He shifted in his space, he felt the movement of Toph behind him and Aang to his right. “I mean it though, we should call it.”

“Can’t we just sleep here?” Aang whined. “Your room is nicer.”

“Zuko’s right,” Katara stressed, sparing glances to all the others. “We’re all really tired. You guys should head to bed.”

_You guys?_

Sokka got out of bed, ushered Toph and Aang out the door, mouthed _Sorry_ with a wince.

The puzzle pieces began to click together when the door closed with a flurry of laughter and Sokka repeatedly telling the younger teens to shut the fuck up and that they couldn’t listen.

 _“Oh,”_ Katara’s steely gaze, Sokka’s condolences, Toph reminding him that _he_ was in the wrong. That _he_ was the one to fuck up a good thing. _“Shit.”_

Katara’s sickenly sweet motherly smile melted away. Leaving nothing behind, the same sort of blank expression Sokka wore before plastering a smile. But Sokka made it look almost hot, Katara made it look like she was planning his funeral. “Can I braid your hair?”

“No.”

_“Zuko-”_

“Fine.”

Sokka had told her. Zuko didn’t know what parts. Knowing Sokka, he either would have babbled it without thinking. Knowing Katara she probably ringed him for every detail and only smoothed it over by promising she’d take care of it. Based purely on the pain radiating from Zuko’s scalp as she finger combed harshly and started from the crown with smaller intricate braids, he assumed Sokka told her the majority of it. Leaving Aang to be the only one who truly _didn’t_ know.

It was his trip, no need to ruin it.

He winced at a particularly hard tug. _“Jesus fucking-”_

“Are you an organ donor?” Katara cut him off, her tone suspiciously in the middle of genuine curiosity and ice cold rage. 

“What?”

“I know you barely listen to Sokka, but the least you could do is _hear_ me when I’m talking,” She leaned to his left and Zuko had to twist his body to see her. He assumed that it was a very bad time to remind her that if she kept talking to him from his left he actually _wouldn’t_ hear her. “Are you an organ donor?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I’m just making sure so that when I _kill you_ if you hurt my brother again I can at least donate the organs.” Katara moved back behind him, tangling her hands in his hair to start another small braid to feed into the largest one.

Zuko admits that he deserved that one. “...Okay.”

“I-” Katara froze, stilling herself in the middle of the braid. _“Okay?”_ She repeated, unbelieving.

“Yeah, I’m a donor,” Zuko nodded, regretting the decision immediately as Katara’s grip was still tight on three strands of hair while the other smaller braids ached. “I’ve been smoking on and off since I was thirteen, though. I don’t think the lungs will be useful.”

Katara’s grip lessened, then disappeared completely. Zuko chanced a look back only to see her cool but terrifying demeanor shift into something full of confusion and something verging on pity. “Thirteen?” She asked. Zuko didn’t know why hearing her say it made the number sound so low. “Nobody in your family thought to step in and-”

“You and I have a very different understanding of what family means,” Zuko reminded. “I… I hurt Sokka. I know I did. But, I didn’t mea-”

“You’re taking my threat surprisingly well.” Katara interrupted, leaning back on her hands as to finally stand down.

“Normally I’d be quaking in fear.”

“You just admitted to hurting my brother.”

“Would you rather I perform Dogeza?”

“Don’t humor me, Hiranuma.”

Zuko sighed, let his eyes dart around the room to find something to focus on that wasn’t Katara’s steely blue gaze. “He deserves better than me.”

“You’re right,” Katara agreed. “I don’t know why he likes you so much-”

“Neither do I.”

“But he _does,”_ She continued, sitting up again with a sigh. “Look, I think you think too highly of him. He’s smart but he’s also _so_ fucking dumb. He adores you, you know that right? He wants to know everything about you.”

Zuko let himself think back to the comforting words and touches. The gentle caresses, the lips on skin. Catching little things like Zuko’s coffee order and knowing his favorite playwright.

“That’s pushing it,” Zuko lied to himself. “He doesn’t.”

“It’s really not,” Katara assured before moving back to his hair, finally putting all of her energy into the main french braid starting at the top of his head instead of the tortuous detailing ones. She pulled his bangs into the main braid and he had to force himself from pulling away or wincing. “Sometimes I’ll give him thirty seconds to rant about how much he likes you just so he can get it out of his system.”

“Really? What’s he say?” Zuko wondered aloud, not expecting Katara’s laugh or her answer.

“Mostly how hot you are.” Katara admitted with another chuckle.

“He didn’t even know me when I was hot.”

“I doubt you ever were.”

“For both our sakes, I’ll act like that didn’t _hurt.”_ Zuko flinched on the last word at a particular hard pull. 

“You remind him of Yue, you know…” Katara got quiet, like she was whispering a secret that Zuko was supposed to know but no one else was. He thought over the name, attempting to piece it together with the stories Sokka rambled. Maybe if Zuko would have listened a little harder he would know if reminding Sokka of this mysterious Yue was a good thing or not. Katara must have sensed his hesitation. “You… he hasn’t-”

 _“No.”_ Zuko answered quickly. 

Katara finished the braid in silence, pulling a small blue rubber band from her own hair to finish off Zuko’s braid. “Sokka and Yue’s story isn’t really mine to tell,” She sat back, admiring her work for a moment. Unconsciously, Zuko reached up to his scalp and massaged away at the ache of strands pulled taut for the first time in nearly a month. _Has it been a month? Or more?_

_How am I supposed to testify if I don’t know how long it’s been?_

“It’s a good thing, you know,” Katara continued. “He really loved Yue. With every fibre of his being. He’s the kind of guy who loves hard and fast.”

_“Oh?”_

“Do us both a favor and talk to him?” Katara requested, her direct motherly tone coming back. “You admitted that you hurt him, so apologize. Explain whatever the fuck you said a little better.”

Zuko ignored the tight feeling in his chest. He wasn’t sure what caused it, but the tightness at the apex of his scalp wasn’t helping. He reached up and began to undo it.

“What are you-”

“I usually don’t like people touching my hair.”

“Then why did you let me? I would have stopped.”

Zuko wanted to backtrack. Fix the phrasing from _I don’t like people touching_ to _I don’t trust people to touch._ But there was no way Katara didn’t see how he was with Sokka. He let Sokka braid his hair all the time. Play with it aimlessly, brush his bangs out of his face, play with the jagged edges. He didn’t like how Katara handled his hair because it was just so… maternal. It was tugging but caring with intricate details that Zuko would forget exist. The issue was that, for a moment, Katara’s hands reminded him of his mother’s. That only made his chest tighten more and his tension headache throb.

It didn’t feel quite right. If it had to be a woman, it had to be _Mai._ Because Mai wasn’t maternal and she made sure he knew. Her sharp acrylics would run along the curve of his scalp and he’d feel his eyes cross and flutter closed. He’d sigh into the feeling, let himself be cared for. Let himself open up and say anything on his mind. But it wasn’t Mai. It was Katara.

And he still couldn’t quite trust himself to speak up in front of her.

“It’s not a big deal,” Zuko forced his hands into his lap, willing the nerves beginning to awaken in his hands to remain still. He hazard a glance down, the barest of tremors still made themselves visible. “It’s just a little tight.”

Katara shot him a sympathetic look, he couldn’t quite understand why he deserved it in that moment, before standing up from the bed and wishing him a good night. Signing off with a final _“Talk to Sokka.”_

And just like that, he was alone again.

The silence wasn’t all-encompassing. The thrum of nerves and pain and panic filled the space well enough. He pulled himself off from the bed and grabbed his _(actually his own, as he bought it in the last two days)_ sleeping bag and rolled it out over top the duvet covers. In no offense to the hotel staff it was just… he was just being overly cautious.

Maybe not overly cautious? Maybe just super high strung. Pulled so tight than an ill-placed breath could make him snap.

He could make himself stop feeling again. Zuko had ways to do that. Coping mechanisms filed away into a cabinet in his mind. Some better than others recommended to him by his Uncle and various therapists over the years. Like deep breathing to dissuade the panic. Meditation to center himself. Jogging, exercise, watching or partaking in some sort of comfort media. Zuko didn’t really think a run in the middle of the night in a country that he was unfamiliar with while the threat of being followed by someone his father sent after him would be the best of ideas. Nor did he think hiding under the covers to watch _History of the Entire World, I Guess_ for what was probably the hundredth time would do it either.

So, healthy coping mechanisms aside, he had other options. Drinking was a risk, he’d done enough damage entirely sober that night. He could find someone to bury his feelings in with heavy touches and kisses all over his body. He could wake up with bruises shaped like finger prints on his hips and just feeling so incredibly used that he could just-

Zuko couldn’t get himself to finish the thought. The concept of hookups, true hookups not the ones that Katara insisted would make or break their group dynamic, always made him feel ill. Then again, his first experience he was just a sixteen year old who was semi-recognizable using Grindr for the first time only to never follow through because, well… He had Jet. Why waste the time of uncomfortable conversation with a possible predator to hide away and fuck in some undisclosed location away from reality when he could just call is boyfriend? He’d get the same treatment anyway. Sometimes rough and unforgiving or rushed in a way that would leave him aching for days. Aching for more or aching for less, Zuko was never quite able to tell.

Sokka probably wouldn’t use him. He’d ask what Zuko was _comfortable with_ and what Zuko _wanted._ He’d start with something simple, featherlight touches running down his body, hands in hair but not pulling. Zuko mocked the motion on himself, running a hand down his chest, thumbing over his left nipple through thin cotton. Let his hands wander down rubbing up and down his thighs just like Sokka always did.

He felt like Sokka would be the patient type. More tease than follow through. Dancing around before pouncing. Fuck, he had told him as such the second time they ever spoke. 

Or maybe that was just who he was as a partner. Compassionate, gentle, patient.

Sokka had referred to himself as _attentive, protective, and detail-oriented._

If Zuko asked him to, which he _would_ given the chance because sometimes he can’t handle a gentle touch, Sokka would do a little more. Sokka would fold him over the nearest flattest surface, take him apart piece by piece for hours. Kissing and biting on every inch of skin visible. Mumbling something hot and dirty that Zuko wouldn’t be able to parse through waves after wave of endless pleasure.

 _Lay down for me, baby. I don’t want you to be_ _uncomfortable._

Zuko pulled his hand from himself and bolted upright, trying to force the vivid images away. “What the fuck am I doing?” He dropped his head into his hands, hoping that the tightness of his shorts (thank fuck they were his own) would fade sooner rather than later. The moment immediately following the pants realization, he remembered the tight jersey gray clinging to his body repping the Jr Sea Explorers belonged to the little sister of his sexual interest.

With an embarrassing amount of speed, Zuko pulled the shirt over his head and flung it towards the wall. The impact barely made a sound which only frustrated him more. With a huff he dropped back down onto the bed, covering his face with his hands and letting his legs fall whatever way they pleased.

Zuko realized two very surprising things about himself at that moment. One, he had been out of the closet for far too long to feel guilty and shameful and disgusting about sex fantasies with men. Secondly, Jet had spoiled him. Not in a way that mattered, just in the entitled and claiming way that made Zuko realize he hadn’t actually _handled himself_ in two years. Jet was always just _right there._

_Sokka’s just right there too._

_“No!”_ Zuko berated himself like a mantra. _“No. No. No. No. Stop. Stop fucking thinking about it. Don’t fucking do it, Zuko. Do not fucking do it.”_

It was hard enough already when it was just pure aesthetic attraction. Sokka was hot, _objectively._ Objectively had been his defense last time. Blue eyes and a strong jaw and a thousand watt smile. But then objective turned subjective. Sokka’s patchy stubble and how his voice cracked when he was excited. How he’d infodump about everything and anything. How he made playlists like a story and how he sang along like they were poetry. How he remembered dumb shit like how Zuko had the passing dream of being a playwright and how he liked Chekov.

Zuko laughed to himself, he didn’t even really like Chekov. He liked that his mother was in a production of The Seagull and that his first acting role ever had been in Uncle Vanya in high school. Sokka didn’t know that Chekov was the safe answer because he barely knew who Chekov was.

If Zuko hadn’t lied and said the name Tony Kushner then Sokka would have done the same thing. Zuko could practically hear Sokka quoting Prior without the context of the line. Without the knowledge of such horrible things that was in front of the poor bastard in so few as two scenes. _“I usually say fuck the truth, but mostly, the truth fucks you.”_

Zuko pulled his hands from his eyes, scanned the room, and felt the chill of the draft caused by concrete walls and thin windows. He was in his body. He was in a hotel. He was in Central America. The van was out front, his friends were across the courtyard.

There was still one coping mechanism left he could try. “I need a cigarette.”

Zuko’s relationship with smoking had to do with his father more than anything else. It was easy to take an eldest son outside to chastise him by claiming a smoke break. It was easy to feel wanted in the moments when his father would offer the paper box and let him pick first. Or how fire reflecting off his father’s eyes seemed more natural than the nothing that usually sat behind them. Jet was a smoker too, but he was casual. A nicotine addiction too young because of a bad childhood and even worse adolescence. Zuko could understand, so they’d pass his pen back and forth until the room was hazy with vapors and they both tasted of strawberry, mint, or bubblegum because Jet would get headaches without it.

Which was why Zuko had left his pen at Jet’s house, which turned into him smoking with his father outside before a courthouse hearing, which turned into his emancipation claim falling on deaf ears because the relationship seemed to be healthy, which turned into being half blind half deaf half burnt with short hair running away in the guise of a road trip because a monk thought his favorite foster kid could use some enlightenment.

At least that’s what Zuko remembered, there were parts that he would need to get straight before he had to testify.

Zuko stopped to look at his phone in the middle of the cobblestone pathway going around the courtyard that led a scenic route to the other side.

He checked as the time flashed 4 AM, 5 AM back home, and corrected his thinking.

_There are parts that I need to get straight before I testify over the phone in about nine hours._

On that note, Zuko tucked his phone back into the pocket of his sweatpants and made his way to the ancient vending machines that he had noticed when he entered.

The small hideaway beneath the balconied walkway of the second floor was awash in cool aged neon light compared to the warm light of the rest of the courtyard. He watched as the bills were accepted by the vintage machine as it sputtered back to life long enough to dispose of one pack of Marlboro’s.

He wasn’t exactly committed to a brand, but he still would have preferred anything else.

Since his goal was technically complete, he began the minute long trek back to his room only to be stopped by a low wolf whistle. “Fancy seeing you here, _baby.”_

If Zuko hadn’t just spent the last two hours pitying himself and the possibility of ruining something that he was finally willing to admit that he really liked then he would have shot back a quippy thought. _But he had._ It didn’t help that Sokka had draped himself over the banister, a warm glow to his face and hair that had fallen out of his wolf tail framing his face. He had a towel tied around his waist, hanging low on his hips, and a surprisingly intricately designed thin bathrobe hanging off his shoulders. The only blue aside from his eyes in a sea of oranges, reds and yellows. 

“I’m sorry.” Zuko admitted as he craned his neck to see him.

A sad smile played at Sokka’s lips. “Did Katara put you up to that? I told her you didn’t-”

“I’m just apologizing in general,” Zuko felt himself feel so overwhelmingly seen under Sokka’s gaze. “It’s all sort of bullshit, I’m sorry if I ruined-”

“You didn’t ruin anything!” Sokka insisted, swaying back on his heels as he gripped the railing. “I mean, _sure_ this does add a level to our fun little road trip. But hey, I love spicing things up! What better way to do that than be stalked, you know? It makes me feel important.”

“You _are_ important.”

That got Sokka to laugh, his eyes squeezed tight as he leaned over the bannister again, still holding tightly. More strands of hair escaped and Zuko wanted nothing more than to tuck them back into their right place. “Aww, Zuke. You always know how to make me feel all warm and fluffy.”

“I don’t know if the sarcasm is helping or not, Sokka,” Zuko said, but he could feel himself laughing too. The surprising release of breath that would feel like something adjacent to a sob if he wasn’t smiling. “Why are you awake?”

Sokka looked down at himself. “I just got out of the shower.”

“Yeah, obviously. I just meant-”

“It’s not like I was debating on walking to your room in just this or anything,” Zuko laughed a little harder despite himself. “Why are _you_ awake?”

Zuko changed his mind, he had learned _three_ very surprising things about himself at that moment. The shame and the lack of familiarity with his own body were just easy to compartmentalize on his own. The third only revealed itself in that moment as Sokka shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a reminder of his injury from two weeks before. Sokka could be vulnerable without it seeming like a crutch. Sokka held him for hours without asking. Sokka wanted to know why they _couldn’t._ And Zuko knew the answer, but hated admitting to it. “I fucking hate sleeping alone.”

Something passed through Sokka’s eyes. Maybe he was processing exactly what Zuko had said. Breaking it into pieces and overanalyzing something Zuko thought was a simple phrase. Something surprisingly honest. But in Sokka’s vision, Zuko had been hurt in ways that made honesty difficult. Which was true. Horrifically true.

But lying to Sokka was beginning to get difficult.

“It’s not that deep,” Zuko interrupted the wheels running in Sokka’s mind. He could practically see the smoke flowing out of his ears. “I’m just…”

There was a reason that being a playwright was a pipedream. Why Zuko could pull the quotes he memorized by sheer accident out of thin air. They were good with words. They could wax poetic about anything for ten pages at a time. They could weave stories and entrance listeners. Catch understanding in a three word phrase that would be burned into the minds of all who heard it for years to come.

Zuko faltered. Honesty would mean admitting to missing him even though he was a mere few feet above. Still close enough that they barely needed to project to be heard despite Sokka’s being on the second floor and Zuko’s initial path to get back to his side. Honesty may have been the easiest, but the longer he stood there opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, the harder it was to spit it out.

_So, half truth it is._

“I guess I just got used to being packed into a car with you guys.”

That seemed easier to parse for Sokka, as his expression morphed into a sly smirk. Quirking an eyebrow as he leaned on his elbows on the banister again. Tilting his head to the side and exposing an expanse of skin from his jaw, down his throat, to his exposed collarbone and shoulder. “Aw! You missed me didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Zuko meant to roll his eyes and keep his mouth shut. Letting the joke stay that way. Something teasing and not entirely true. But his mind always ran a little bit slower than his mouth. “Yeah, I did.”

Sokka was quiet for a moment. A moment that Zuko’s mind was thankfully also silent for. “Do you wanna try having that talk again?” Sokka asked, his tongue darting out between his lips to wet them. Maybe in anticipation of the worried biting that immediately followed.

“Yeah,” Zuko nodded. “Just let me get my lighter fir-”

“Dude, it’s in my bag,” Sokka interrupted with a wave. _“Half your shit’s in my bag.”_

“We’re about to have the _‘What are we’_ talk and you just called me _dude?”_

“Technically we’re about to have the _‘Why can’t we’_ talk,” Sokka corrected with an accusing point of his finger. “Until we have the _‘What are we’_ talk I can call you whatever platonic or platonic adjacent nickname I come up with. Okay, sweetheart?”

“Sweetheart?” Zuko couldn’t fight the blush warming up his cheeks, he hoped the twinkling lights made it harder to notice.

“I’m workshopping pet names for you! I know we’ve established that you hate _babe,_ right?”

“Right.”

“And I can tell you like _sweetheart,_ sweetheart,” Maybe Zuko was seeing things, but there might have been a faint blush to Sokka’s cheeks as well. “There’s _baby.”_

“Mhm.”

“And _dude_ is on thin ice,” Sokka made a so-so motion with his hand. “Even though I mean it with all the love in the world.”

_“All the lov-”_

_“All the like in the world,”_ Sokka stumbled over his fix. “All the friendliness in the world. All the… Uh... _Get your ass up here.”_

The silence didn’t echo in Zuko’s ears like it probably did Sokka’s. But the moment Zuko sat beside him in the middle of the walkway of the second floor, watching as the sky was overtaken with navy clouds, blocking out the stars from earlier, Sokka probably still felt the silence.

Given the chance, he’d ask. He’d ask about the way Sokka stared at the sky like he was alone in the universe aside from the moon and a sea of stars. He’d ask why Sokka felt the very concept of an A minus made him inferior. Zuko knew the feeling in technicality, but he felt he experienced it differently than Sokka.

Sokka, who felt acutely or not at all.

Sokka, who ran into the room and tossed him another bathrobe in a similar thin fashion to Sokka’s own. This one with red and yellow intricacies, painting designs that looked eerily like Mayan art but just not close enough to be something that entirely belonged to the culture. The fact that the fit of the thin fabric being strangely similar to that of a westernized yukata was also not lost on him. Any other time he’d complain about it, but Sokka seemed to enjoy his own. Apparently he had gone to the lobby at one point with the intention of grabbing something from the van only to have the woman who had run the front desk shove them into his arms.

“She said, _‘your lover will like them,’”_ Sokka mumbled, their fingers brushing as the near finished cigarette was passed from between Zuko’s fingers to Sokka’s waiting ones. “I didn’t have the heart to correct her. Plus, they matched so you _know_ I couldn’t turn them down.”

“Lover is probably better than _and a half,”_ Zuko conceded, watching as Sokka took a long drag from the cigarette, the tip glowing red as ash fell down into the makeshift ashtray between the two of them. The two of them apparently made an unsaid agreement to only tap it out right by the painted dragon’s nostrils so they could watch with more intrigue than two sober individuals should have. “But, lovers are usually fucking.”

“Yeah,” Sokka agreed easily, but didn’t divulge more before passing the cigarette back to Zuko. “I was fully willing to give you a handjob in the back of the van, though.”

Zuko didn’t really notice when the act of passing the cigarette between them first started. It was probably just done with muscle memory. He had a whole pack, it wasn’t like they were teenagers behind the bleachers with a single marlboro they had stolen from their father and a bic lighter. It felt intimate though. More open than the passing of a bowl for some reason. Maybe it was because neither was really getting anything out of it. The buzz of nicotine was nothing in comparison to a true high. Yet, it wasn’t something he was really chasing at that moment. It would only cloud his judgment and his honesty would be muddled with his desperate craving for Sokka’s hands on his body. Then his admission of _why they couldn’t_ would morph into _how much he wanted to and in what positions._

“I don’t know why you would,” Zuko laughed. “There isn’t really anything particularly sexy about me mid breakdown after only getting kissed on the cheek.”

“I just like seeing how you react to things,” Sokka said with a shrug like saying it was the easiest thing in the world. “I like being the one who does it for you.”

“Does what?” Zuko challenged, finally stubbing out the cigarette on the dragon’s mouth as the heat had begun to sting his fingertips. He watched the tendrils rise between them for a second, pleasantly surprised that the simple act of watching a smoking dragon filled him with the little buzz of a childhood excitement. When he looked back up, Sokka had leaned back, supporting himself with his elbows. He looked like he was making a conscious decision to flex. “Soka what are you-”

 _“Baby?”_ Sokka dropped his voice into something overly and almost _comedically_ masculine. The lowest part of his inflection broke into a whisper before peeking again with a rumble. And any other word said like that would have earned some form of teasing or at the least an eyeroll. But the shiver still ran down his spine and radiated out to his shoulders making them droop automatically. And just like that, the moment was over. Sokka sat back up, his eyes twinkling with the laughter that spilled out like an overflowing fountain. “You make it so easy, baby.”

“That’s cheating,” Zuko swatted at Sokka’s shoulder, knowing there was no malice behind it. In any other case the nickname is passable. Just something that Zuko enjoyed passively. Something that he had become accustomed to. But when it was just _baby_ (or even just _Zuko,_ or just _anything_ that Sokka said, putting all his intention behind it) he couldn’t help but melt a little the second it’s said before quickly putting himself together to move back on. “You’re using your powers for evil, and you know it.”

“At least I know when I’m doing it,” Sokka teased. “You always get me riled up on accident.”

“Really?”

“See that’s what I mean!” Sokka laughed, slapping a hand down on Zuko’s shoulder and closing the distance between the two of them just a little more. “You can’t even, like, pinpoint anything specific, _can you?”_

Zuko didn’t bother trying, choosing to shake his head no instead. Just to get Sokka to pull him in a little closer. Sokka’s hand drifted up from his shoulder to cradle the back of his neck, tilting his head forward until their foreheads were touching. Zuko took a deep breath in. Then another. Breathing the eerily familiar smell of ginger and and smoke that he would have expected to smell like, not Sokka. Sokka was the fiji spray deodorant he kept in the front pocket of his back and his natural everything. Zuko pulled away just enough to see Sokka’s worried look. _“You used my shampoo.”_

Sokka let out a laugh that sounded more like something between a scoff and a sigh, concern still tugging at his brows. “...Yeah?”

Zuko pulled away fully, sitting on his heels. _“Dude-”_

“Oh,” Sokka balked, pulling the robe a little tighter around his shoulders. “So you get to call me dude but when _I do it-”_

“You know it's medicinal, right?” Zuko challenged, folding his arms over his chest. “And it’s expensive! I’d have to order more if you wasted it. I don’t even know where I’d get it shipped to.”

“In my defense I didn’t know it was fancy shampoo,” Sokka held his hands up in surrender before dropping them back down to his lap. “I just knew it was yours and that it smells like you.”

“Oh…” Zuko said, standing down. _“Oh.”_

“We’ve been over the crippling romantic thing, Z,” Sokka closed the distance between them again, pressing a kiss to the top of Zuko’s head before pulling away. “At this point, it shouldn’t be a surpri-”

“Sokka,” Zuko felt more than heard himself interrupt. _“Why can’t we?”_

Sokka paused, thinking the question over as if he was actually expected to have the last piece of their puzzle. “...I was kind of hoping you’d be the one with the answer to that, baby.”

Zuko nodded, not processing Sokka’s words but hearing them. Zuko had the answer. By all means, he should have had all the answers. “Because you’re too good for me,” A truth he had admitted to Toph while sitting in the pool and admiring Sokka’s body. “Because you deserve better.” And a truth he felt the second Sokka looked at him with a surprising amount of adoration. A truth he kept realizing the more moments they shared in a similar vein of experiences. When he’d remember. When he’d admit to hurting, knowing Zuko wouldn't be able to do anything for it. 

“Those aren’t good answers, Zuko.”

“I can’t be seen like this with you,” _Like this_ was relative. _Like this_ didn’t mean their position a little too close with a little too much skin exposed. _Like this_ meant together. _Like this_ meant official. _Like this_ meant father would know because he always knew.

Sokka didn’t seem to take it that way, the gears between his ears working a little too hard again. Zuko quickly backtracked, reaching his hands out. If the intention was to defend or to comfort, neither could really tell. “No! Not… it’s not you. It’s… _Fuck._ It’s my father,” He took a shaky breath willing calm to wash over his words. When that breath didn’t work he took another. And another. “You…” _Another._ “I just can’t see you get hu-” _Another._ “You just…”

“Hey,” Sokka closed the space fully, putting gentle pressure on Zuko’s bare shoulders. He didn’t even realize the robe had begun to slip with his near heaving breaths. “It’s fine… We’re good… I…” Sokka took a breath there too, his were more controlled, but the act itself seemed to surprise him. “Thank you.”

“What?”

“Thank you for caring,” Sokka said, something so genuine that it hurt. “I mean it. After… after the SUV thing. Fuck, probably when we were heading to the airport and I saw that-”

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t you,” Sokka interrupted his own train of thought to comfort him. He ran his hands up Zuko’s shoulders, up to the nape of his neck where hair met skin.Tangled his fingers in the still too tight braid for good measure, loosening it from the base in one swift motion. Like he knew Katara always braided harsher than she needed to and how to relieve the pain that Zuko forgot even existed. He felt himself melt just a little bit more into Sokka’s hands. “I mean, I knew it then. I knew it wasn’t your fault then. But, I was just waiting for shit to hit the fan.”

Zuko’s eyes crossed a little at the feeling of fingers massaging at his scalp, that didn’t mute the ever running pity party running between his ears. _“It has.”_

“No,” Sokka said, his voice thoughtful. Zuko may have whined at the loss of contact and leaned a little closer. Chasing something he couldn’t have, but let himself partake in during the fleeting moments. But Sokka seemed adamant on making sure the moment was enduring. Creating half times and pauses in their moments to extend it into something it shouldn’t have been in the first place.

Or maybe Sokka had an entirely different understanding of their friendship.

Their something lovers-adjacent.

Their _and a half._

“I actually had a few worse case scenarios tucked away. Like, if we should move again.” Sokka admitted, continuing his earlier thought. “We were on the way to the airport, I was sitting next to you saying any bullshit that came to my mind and the whole time I was just thinking: “If we need to fly to Canada or someplace farther so we aren’t found or followed, how can I do that?” Gran Gran has a place, you know I used to live up there. We’d stay with her.

“We all have passports, so it wouldn’t be an issue,” He continued, pulling away a little father, leaning back against the cast iron railings keeping them from falling maybe only seven feet to the ground. Lights going through the railing left striped shadows along Sokka’s bare chest. Without thinking much of it, Zuko reached forward. Tucking the loose hairs back into place like he had thought of doing earlier. “Money wouldn’t be a problem, we had you. And if not you we could figure something else out. I could work at this little general store that Gran Gran lives near. I’ve got like, three different pseudonyms I’m ready to take at a moment's notice. Wang Fire has always been a favorite and has been my most accepted fake ID. Yes, I’m proud of it. Yes I know it sounds like an STI, but the fact that it still works just makes it better.”

“Why?” Zuko found himself asking, fixing flaws in Sokka’s hair that weren’t really flaws. Straightening out cheap thin fabric on his shoulders, pulling his hands back to himself.

“Why what?”

“Why were you so ready to drop everything?” Zuko asked. “We barely knew each other then.”

“It’s how you treat family.” Sokka said it like even the thought of anything else would make him ill.

“Pardon?”

“If you were in danger or something, I would have done it,” Sokka admitted with a shrug, only to backtrack. “I would have done it for Katara, obviously. And Aang. Toph now too. But… But I just…” A deep breath. And another. Fingers raked through hair that Zuko had just fixed. Brows tight in a line. He had never seen Sokka angry before, but Zuko knew he was about to. “But if your father had the fucking _audacity_ to show up anywhere near my family I-”

“Baby-” Zuko started, but shut up immediately when Sokka shot him a look that screamed _Don’t._ “Sorry.” Zuko said before there were hands on his thighs and lips on his cheek. Hands pushing hair out of the way.

“Sorry,” Sokka parroted. _“Sorry._ Just not… _not right now.”_

Sokka sat back against the railing again, that time holding onto Zuko’s hand. Tied together with grips tight with the thought of losing each other or running away or the reality of every reason why they shouldn’t have made it as far as they did. “I had to see that fucker every single day for years,” Sokka said, holding Zuko’s eye contact. “I knew how he exploited his workers or anyone who was underneath him and that’s how he’d climb to the top. And I knew that anyone who tried to speak up would either fall off the face of the earth or lose their livelihood, but I was also fucking ten, you know?”

Zuko knew. He knew a little too well. He nodded. Sokka took that as a sign to keep going. But, with the way his grip tightened and the way his eyes had begun to dart, he probably would have kept going without Zuko’s okay.

“I grew up with Ozai just there over everything. My family keeping our noses out of everything and just sitting on our hands because it wasn’t happening to us was the reason my mom died. Because she just took it every single fucking day until she was _gone,”_ Sokka admitted, something tight that had been in his chest since the moment Zuko first saw him releasing just in the slightest. “Dude, if it wasn’t for the pictures and shit we have lying around the house, I don’t think I’d even remember what she looked like because were _kids._ You can’t expect kids to know what to do when their mom just disappears.”

“Sokka-”

“And then!” Sokka was laughing, something sharp and painful that split his face in two. “And then he can just turn around and do that shit to his _son?!_ If I had nightmares just based on the concept of Ozai and the shit he stands for and a stupid fucking billboard, what the hell does that mean for you?! _Baby,_ the second I realized he did it because of your mom I-”

“What?” Zuko’s world may have just shattered around him, and Sokka kept talking like he didn’t notice.

“I was ready to fucking kill that guy if he so much as thought about you again!” Sokka stopped, calmed down, met Zuko’s eyes, and something shifted. _“You-”_

“He did that bec-” Zuko couldn’t get a full sentence out. Too many things started making too much sense. “He… _Oh my God.”_ Zuko knew he had his mother’s eyes. He knew that Ozai would compare them. Ever facet of them. The weakness they held, how he reminded him of her.

Sokka’s hands were on his shoulders again as he used the force to pull Zuko in close. “Zuko, I didn’t mean-”

“I’m an idiot,” He gasped for air only to take in ginger and cigarette smoke instead in the crook of Sokka’s neck. “How did I… I was eighteen I could’ve… I still can if she- _Oh my God…”_

“Zuko, look at me.”

“No, no you’re right and I’m an idiot because I’m just so fucking…” Zuko hoped the heaving breaths could be seen as meditative. An attempt at keeping his cool when all he wanted to do was run further and faster than he had been running. “How didn’t I-”

“It was a stupid guess,” Sokka cooed into his ear, pulling him away just enough to look at him. Their eyes crossed with the proximity. “I jump to conclusions sometimes. It could be crazy. It was just a guess. He probably didn’t-”

“No, you’re right because I waited!” Zuko admitted, closing his eyes tight. “I aged out. I could have gotten away with it. I didn’t even need to do half of that shit if I was just trying to get myself out. But I was trying to help. I wanted to do what my mom didn’t. I wanted to get myself and Azula out. But _no,_ I just didn’t want to fuck up like Ursa. I didn’t want to leave her behind and I didn’t want to stay. Dad knew that. And then he said I was like my mom and he-”

 _“Hey, it’s okay,”_ Sokka pulled him in close again, squeezing him so tight that his ribs ached. _“It’s okay.”_

“I think…” Zuko managed a breath that wasn’t deep and expansive and made his head spin. Just a breath. And another as his heart beat leveled. As Sokka’s own breathing got easier. “I think I have to testify tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. _That was a concept._ It was somewhere between midnight and midnight. Time barely existed and time zones sure as hell didn’t. Not when he felt like he was being watched by hidden eyes just waiting to take it away from him too.

“Tomorrow,” Sokka repeated, his focus obviously more taken by capturing his own breath and holding on a little too tight. “That’s fast, isn’t it?”

It had been months. It had happened in the spring and they were well into the summer. 

“Yeah,” Zuko nodded. Anything that meant he’d have to interact with Ozai again felt rushed. Especially after connecting dots he didn’t think needed connecting. “I don’t trust it.”

So, of course at that moment his phone needed to ring.

**_I’ve been sleepin, for 40 days and, I know I’m sleepin’ cause this dreams too amazin’_ **

Zuko pulled himself away just enough to take out his phone, leaving Sokka to lean back against the cast iron bars, their bodies still touching but no longer flush. “You changed your ringtone?” Sokka noticed.

“Technically, I never _changed_ anything. It’s a new phone,” Zuko looked over again to see tear stains tracking down Sokka’s cheeks. He closed the distance again, pressing a small kiss right below Sokka’s eye. “And _You’re Gonna Go Far Kid_ was my alarm, not my ringtone.”

“Ah,” Sokka said with a nod, wiping at his eyes but avoiding the spot Zuko had just kissed. “I’m flattered at your ringtone choice by the way.”

“I think you’re just getting to me.”

“Who's calling?” Sokka asked, laying his head back against the swirling iron.

“Uncle.” Zuko mumbled, looking down at the orange light emitting from the screen.

“Oh, that’s good!” Sokka sat up a little, pulling the towel tighter around him. “That’s good, right?”

Zuko nodded. “Technically, yes.”

“God after all this time to get to him and you’re gonna make the guy wait?” Sokka teased, swatting Zuko’s forearm playfully. “Look alive, Sunshine.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “Don’t Danger Days me.”

Sokka let his head drop to his shoulder, his eyes going half lidded. “I’ll do whatever I want.”

“...Do I sound like I’ve been crying?” Zuko asked, still unwilling to swipe the screen to accept the call. “He’ll notice.”

“Eh,” Sokka hummed, and reached forward, swiping a thumb along Zuko’s cheekbones. “You can get away with just saying you’re tired or something.”

“Sokka,” Zuko warned. “I gotta-”

“Right,” Sokka pulled his hand away and stood up. “Uh, I’m gonna go put my pjs on and grab my phone and… and you can just sit on the bed or something.”

“You don’t think I handle talking to my Uncle by myself?”

“No I just don’t want you to be alone,” Sokka looked back at the door and then towards Zuko again. “I’ll bring out my earbuds, I won’t listen I just…”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” Zuko shrugged. “Go put clothes on before you get in trouble or something. I'll be in in a second.”

As soon as the door was closed, drenching the walkway in silence again, Zuko answered. “Hello?”

There was a deep sigh over the line, one that sounded like it was held tight for far too long. “Zuko! I’m so happy to hear from you.”

“You didn’t answer my calls earlier.”

Iroh hummed, something rustled from the other side. “Because I was dealing with some of the uh… less than ideal aspects of your case.”

“Oh…”

“But,” Iroh said, forcing his usual jovial tone back into his tone. “I did listen to your first message! It sounds like you’re having an amazing time with your new friends.”

“Yeah,” Zuko nodded, although he knew Iroh wouldn’t _know._ “Yeah I’m… I’m enjoying myself. Uh… Uncle I-”

“That is lovely to hear! You haven’t missed much on our side of the world, but I did come up with the most amazing blend of-” Iroh prattled on for a little longer. Sokka came out again and motioned for Zuko to come in. Apparently Zuko had taken too long.

He was wearing a pair of tight fitting black joggers _(Zuko's)_ , and noticeably nothing underneath them. His hair was out of its wolf wolftail and he had his earbuds in.

Zuko paced the floor in front of the bed, half paying attention to Iroh's daily life and half paying attention to Sokka draped across the bed. His earbuds in and phone held above him in one hand absently swiping while the other scratched mindlessly across his chest.

Zuko took a step closer to the edge of the bed, and toed at Sokka’s exposed ankle hanging off the edge. Sokka barely sat up to look at him, his face knitted in confusion. "You okay?"

“Those are mine.” Zuko mouthed, exaggerating his point by gesturing so Sokka would know the intention.

Sokka laughed and took out one earbud. “You wear my clothes all the time.” Zuko rolled his eyes and went to continue his pacing and grabbing for the pen on the desk, it was chained down so he gestured for Sokka to stand up.

Sokka did so and Zuko scrawled _“LAUNDRY”_ on Sokka’s hand and mimed “We keep forgetting.”

"You keep forgetting," Sokka corrected before walking back to the bed and flopping back with flare. "I was never in charge of remembering."

“Uncle,” Zuko said, finally cutting off Iroh’s barrage of information on the new black teas that he had arrived the night before instead of challenging Sokka's comment. “You mentioned my case earlier. Uh… how is it… how is it going?”

“Well,” Iroh started, his voice melting back into the familiar protective tone. “There is _a lot_ to be done.”

“Of course."

“Azula’s testimony should help sway the case in the right direction but-”

“But, there's no real proof, I know.”

“Nephew I never said-”

“Other than the pictures Aang sent in,” Zuko finished, crossing the length of the room to stand by Sokka again. Sokka got the picture and sat up, paying attention for any sign that screamed help without listening in. “I just… I just want to know what’s expected of me tomorrow is all.”

“Nephew,” Iroh sighed sadly. “I think you know that answer.”

“I don’t remember the details,” Zuko reached out for Sokka’s hand and he took it immediately, pulling it close to his chest. “I could talk around it. There’s no records, but it’s not like father will deny anything happened. He’ll just pass it off as an incident. Like he always does.”

"I'm not so sure he can this time, Zuko."

"That won't stop him from trying," There must have been just enough of a waver in his voice for Sokka to be a little more concerned. He pulled him close, his arm wrapping around his waist until he could kiss right above Zuko's hip bone. Zuko would have melted at the touch if it wasn't for Iroh on the other side of the line. The act, although intimate, was surprisingly chaste. Sokka looked up at him through his eyelashes, and Zuko suddenly remembered he hadn't finished his sentence. Far too distracted by the calm just being touched by Sokka could do. "I don't even know why we're trying with Azula. I love her, but... but she was barely there. Dad kicked her out before-"

 _"Zuko-"_ Iroh warned.

"I just don't know why we're even trying," Sokka set his phone to the side and used the one hand that wasn't busy making aimless circles on the front of Zuko's thigh to hold his hand again. "It's not worth it if I'm going to lose."

Iroh made an acknowledging humming noise, like he knew something that Zuko didn't know he did. Sokka let his head rest against Zuko's torso. Right above his hip bone. “There’s nothing wrong with letting people who love you help you, nephew.”

“So what?” Zuko bit back, causing Sokka to pull back a little at the sudden jolt. Zuko fixed the surprised by carding a hand through Sokka's still damp hair and letting his hand cradle the back of Sokka's head before he continued. Gaining his composure for the moment. “Nobody was there we don't have enough information I don't even know what the fuck is happening because no one trusts me with my own life.”

“I’m giving you options,” Iroh said, an almost begging tone in his voice. Like he had intended to follow that thought with more bullshit sage advice about Zuko growing as a person. "You're in control of what you-"

“But I don't know what I'm choosing!" Sokka shot up at Zuko's shout. Zuko was prepared to apologize for losing his temper until he realized Sokka's arms had replaced themselves around his waist in a hug, his head dropping onto to Zuko's shoudler. The white wires still hung between them. Zuko could make out the edges of some older Panic! song. "Uncle, I don't know enough about this to make a choice. I don't know what's right. _You know I don't-"_ Zuko broke the hug just enough to have his own space, still gripping tight onto Sokka's hand.

_“Zuko, please-”_

_“Which is it?”_ Zuko begged. “You _know_ I can’t lose again.”

Iroh must have said something over the line, but Zuko didn’t hear much of it as Sokka tugged on his arm a little, getting his attention with: “You need a bigger defense.”

Zuko dropped his phone to his chest, muffling the last bit of Iroh's comments, as he answered barely above a whisper. “What?”

“Good lawyers can only do so much when there’s a lot of shit coming at them you know,” Sokka suggesting, rubbing his thumb over Zuko’s knuckles. “You said it didn’t work last time. That you can’t lose _again._ I don’t know how you would have lost but... _but_ maybe you could throw a few more things at him?

"Sokka-" Zuko barely got out before he was pulled close to the other teen again, their clasped hand between them.

"I mean," Sokka continued, a smiling teasing it's way to the front. "I’m sure there’s gotta be tax evasion somewhere in there, right? If you had more time, the case could be built on that. Then the more you dig, the more you find. I know we don’t say your ex’s name but… but _he’s_ probably got a lot he can think of. Fuck, Katara and I had to sit on our asses and watch our mom’s trial against him drop. There’s probably more shit there that my dad could add to it. Then there’s you and your case-”

“What do you mean?” Zuko asked.

“The goal is the get the bastard behind bars, right? So you can get out?" Zuko nodded, almost understanding. “My mom is just one of… one of many cases brought up and thrown out that are nearly identical. All tied to Hiranuma bullshit. _No offense.”_

“None taken, I know who I am. I have to deal with it all the time.”

“No, baby, listen,” Sokka pulled him in a little closer, cradling his jaw and tilting his chin up just enough so that they were inches apart. “I’m saying you won’t lose if you just _outlast_ him.”

Zuko was shocked into silence for a moment before he remembered Iroh still speaking at nothing. He held the phone to his ear, not breaking the eye contact with Sokka. Trying to hold on a little longer to see if he could really understand. “Sorry. What what that?”

Iroh realized huffed a small laugh. “Was that that Sokka you were talking about before?" He asked, pleasantly. "I recognize his voice form the voicemail.”

“Oh… uh… _yeah.”_

“What was he saying? If it’s something an old man can handle hearing.”

“Oh, we weren’t- He just-” Zuko cleared his throat, finally looking down to be met with more of Sokka's skin. He took a step back for safety. “Uh, there should be an Irniq case against Ozai open too. And if you add mine and probably a couple others we could… Maybe build something off of that.”

Iroh was silent for a moment. A terrifying moment. “Sokka said that?”

“He explained it better,” Zuko looked over in hopes Sokka would be willing to speak up for himself, only to be met with a panicked look on the other teen's face. “But now he’s shaking his head really fast so I think he’s kinda scared of speaking to you”

“Zuko, am I on speaker?”

_“... no?”_

“May I ask you something?”

“I guess.”

“You care about Sokka.”

“That’s not a quest-”

“I know that. The question was, are you comfortable with Sokka meeting your father?”

 _“What?"_ Just the thought of it made Zuko's blood run cold. _"No. Fuck no, why would he have to?”_

“Because his idea is incredibly smart it would just be…" Iroh sighed. He could practically see the long suffering slow shake of the man's head as he tried to pick his words carefully. "Zuko, the Irniq case has been a topic of discussion for _years._ It would help, yes but-”

 _“But it would ruin everything.”_ Zuko finished himself as Sokka sat back down on the bed, barely acknowledging his words again aside from swinging their arms a little. Just enough to say _I'm with you._ Not enough to know exactly what that would entail. 

“If it is to be brought up, your father would know," Iroh urged him. "Is that something you’re okay with happening?”

If it wasn't for the gentle humming Zuko could hear from the headphones, Zuko would have sworn that Sokka had actually been listening the entire time. Sokka shifted their handhold into the simple act of locking pinkies.

“I don’t know,” Zuko admitted, trying to find the pattern in their swing arms between them. Trying to see if Sokka's plan was something he was even willing to try. Maybe...

_Maybe._

“Uncle?”

“Yes, Zuko?”

“We’re doing the testimony over the phone…" Iroh hummed an acknowledgment. "Where does Ozai think I am?”

“I’m..." Iroh paused, thinking the question over. "I'm not entirely sure.”

“Has... has he been trying?” Zuko challenged, already knowing the answer himself but just unsure of the means. 

“You know your father, _of course he’s trying,”_ There was the edges of tension in Iroh's voice. “He's just being uncharacteristically passive about it. I don't understand why, but when I do-”

“Does he think I’m still in New York?"

“As far as I know, yes," It was a technicality, but Zuko was thankful. "His whole team believes you’re still in the care of Gyatso. They assume you won't be able to make it in person because you are still recovering.”

Zuko let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I’d like to keep my location out of it as long as possible.”

Iroh hummed in understanding. “We’ll do our best, Zuko.”

“And can you ask Gyatso to stop talking through Aang? It’s my case. It’s my life. I’d like to know all that’s happening.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure. I just… I just gotta outlast dad is all.”

As soon as the phone call ended, Sokka tugged on his arm a little. Just enough to get him to sit beside him on the bed and bury his face in Sokka's shoulder. Breathing in ginger and mint and something else that was just so Sokka, letting his head swim in it. He took a few more deep breaths before speaking up. "What the fuck are we doing?"

“Honestly?” Sokka laughed, because of course he did, and pressed a kiss into Zuko’s hair. Swiping away at the flyaways who had found their own form of gravity. “I’m a little emotionally spent for the _what the fuck are we doing_ talk?”

“I’m first to drive tomorrow, aren’t I?” Sokka nodded, pulling in Zuko a little closer with an arm around his waist. The robe had begun to itch but Zuko didn't have the heart to take it off quite yet. “Thought so.”

“That gives us two hours to sleep.”

Zuko lifted his head from Sokka's shoulder just enough to meet his eye. “Us?”

“I mean, yeah. Toph rode shotgun pretty much all of yesterday. I deserve my shotgun privileges with my co-captain.” Sokka ruffled Zuko's hair to prove his stance. “Go shower before you fall asleep, be a respectable bed mate.”

“Who said I was sleeping over?”

“You did, _Mr. I fucking hate sleeping alone.”_

“Good point,” Zuko hauled himself off the bed, only midly surprised at his reluctance of losing Sokka's touch for the moment. “You’re welcome to fall asleep without me.”

“I just might,” Sokka sighed, making a show of trying to get comfortable as Zuko dug through Sokka’s rucksack. “Baby?”

“Hm?”

“I hate sleeping alone too.”

Zuko stepped into the shower with that phrase circling his mind and stepped out the same.

He stepped back into the main room, steaming rolling out from the shower as he pulled the robe a little tighter around his body. The fabric clinging to his arm and his wet hair clinging to his forehead despite his best attempts at avoiding the water. The braid held surprisingly strong, letting only some strands escape. He toed his way over to Sokka's backpack and pulled on the first semi-clean thing he could find. A pair of gray basketball shorts that hung a little too low on his hips no matter how much he tightened the drawstring.

Zuko climbed into the bed slowly, careful not to jolt Sokka back into the world of wakefulness. He had fallen asleep with his bathrobe half on. Chest exposed and taking up his fair share of the bed, sprawled into what Zuko hadn't had the chance to claim as his side, but was thankful he didn't have to. He took a risk, brushing their hands together as he pulled the thin cover over himself. Sokka was just awake enough to twist his wrist so they're pinkies could be hooked together. Zuko fell asleep thinking of the natural chill of Sokka's skin compared to the heat he had gotten so used to in every other facet of his existence.

_"You're almost useless to me." A voice like hot asphalt. Heavy hands on shoulders and comparisons to mother._

_"You look like a victim." Smooth, almost forgiving, bruising force, open threats._

_"I'm not saying it..." He wouldn't. "Am I everyone?" He wasn't._

[ _I’m still breathing, I’ve been worse._ ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26274268)

He pressed a hand to his chest, willing the rattling to stop. Forcing the ache and the trails of smoke still in his lungs out. Brought that hand up to his throat, catching his carotid arteries between a thumb and a pointer finger. Pressing a little harder on his windpipe than he should have to make sure he was alive. Rand both hands up his face and into his hair. The scar didn’t ache underneath Zuko’s touch like it had all those other times. It didn’t burn. It simply felt like a part of him. One he couldn’t get away from.

_You could outlast him._

Zuko looked down just in time to see a hand swatting in his general space. Somewhere between grasping for something to hold or slapping for some silence. But it was Sokka. Sokka who hated silence and the quiet and who had fallen asleep with his earbuds in. Zuko could barely catch the repetitive piano chords and background strings coming from the small speakers.

He could barely hear the music because he was too distracted by Sokka’s heavy breaths challenging Zuko’s own. 

Sokka shuffled in a little closer, his hand finally making contact somewhere on the top of his left shoulder. His fingers skirted down Zuko’s chest, and along his arm, following veins that looked purple in the darkness. He finally made it back to Zuko’s hand and grabbed hold, twisting their clasped hands just enough to press a kiss along each knuckle.

“Sorry,” Zuko hummed as Sokka shifted once more so his head was raised a little higher. “Did I wake you up?”

Sokka took a moment to form an answer, something lost in his eyes before he sighed. Instead focusing all the energy he had at the moment to his free hand. Which reached down and circled Zuko’s knee and ran along the seams of the basketball shorts until he landed on his hip. Sokka pulled him in a little closer, using that free hand to pull Zuko back down so they’d be at the same level. Sokka’s arm was heavy on Zuko’s torso as the skin touching skin felt like pure electricity.

Like it always did.

“No,” Sokka finally spoke up as he committed fully to laying on his front. Half of his face was buried in a pillow while the other stayed exposed. If Zuko didn’t have one hand pulled underneath Sokka’s pillow, their hands clasped together, while the other was underneath the dead weight of Sokka’s arm, he would have rolled over as well. Burying the left side of his face in thin sheets and pillows. “I was already awake.”

“Why?”

“Nightmare.”

Zuko nodded in understanding, although his wasn’t a nightmare. He just got lost sometimes. His brain would pull him back into moments he couldn’t escape. Like something in his psyche had him tied down to relive the worst moments of his life over and over and over again.

But Sokka didn’t need to know that. “Sokka, I know you probably hate me but-”

“I don’t hate you.” Sokka said, surprisingly cognisant despite his half lidded eyes and the drool stain beginning underneath him.

“But I-”

“Baby?”

“Fuck off.” Zuko rolled his eyes, but he meant it fondly. Sokka must have known that as the visible corner of his lip turned up. Or maybe he finally felt the jolts of shivers that Zuko always felt whenever he heard the pet name as he had maybe 60% of Sokka’s weight on top of him.

_“Baby.”_

“Yes, Sokka?”

“Just saying it,” Sokka teased, the shit eating grin impressively visible in the dark. “I think.”

Zuko almost kissed him. Almost closed the distance with bruising force, almost pulled his hands from underneath Sokka to cradle his face and kiss him again and again and again. He could practically taste the mint and cigarette smoke on Sokka’s tongue by proximity alone.

Sokka deserved someone. Zuko wasn’t sure if that someone should be better than him, or that he wanted Sokka’s someone to _be_ him. He wanted to be Sokka’s and he wanted Sokka to be his.

“I meant it when I said I hate sleeping alone,” Zuko mumbled, surprised to see Sokka crack his eyes open at that. “I meant that I missed you. You were right. We’re both crippling romantics.”

“That’s good. So did I.” Sokka rolled back over onto his back, his loose hair fanning out onto his pillow. He freed his arms from Zuko at the same moment. Instead of saying anything, he just made a grabby motion with his hands in Zuko’s direction. And yes, Zuko did roll his eyes and complain. He teased the request with his own remarks. Reminded Sokka that they were friends. That they shouldn’t. That they can’t.

But he barely even finished his jeers before he was on top of Sokka, their legs tangled and his head over his heart. Sokka reached a hand into his hair, untangling and undoing the last bit of Katara’s braid that had managed to hold on.

“I’d do it, you know,” Sokka said against his ear, pressing his lips against a spot where his jaw and ear connected that could barely be considered a kiss. “I’d do whatever.”

Zuko didn’t need to ask for clarification. It was the continuation to the earlier question.

 _Why can’t we?_ Because we can’t. _I’d do it._ But you shouldn’t.

“Yeah, I know,” Zuko sighed into Sokka’s chest. He listened as Sokka’s heartbeat picked up as he shifted a little. Their bodies _not quite_ grinding down on each other, just supplying enough pressure and friction to be noticed. “I like you too much to see you get hurt. I’m not worth the risk okay, baby?”

Sokka craned his neck down to meet Zuko’s eyes. The tension in his neck made it uncomfortable and he was suddenly acutely aware of how exposed the scar was. Without much of a thought, he laid his head back down on Sokka’s chest. That time on his left side, shifting their entire position in the process. It lessened the friction, but their legs were still knotted and Sokka’s fingers were still in his hair. “You always call me that when something is wrong.”

“Do I?” Zuko asked, pressing a kiss right over his heart, admittedly sloppy and something to intentionally distract him. “I didn’t realize-”

“Dude,” Zuko pulled away just enough to glare at him. “You get to call me baby to get my attention. I get to call you dude.”

Zuko huffed and dropped his head back down, nosing into the crook of Sokka’s neck. “...Your nightmare.”

“Oh,” Sokka sighed, a finger stuttering up it’s path along Zuko’s spine. “That.”

 _“That.”_ Zuko parroted.

“Oh yeah, it was some scary shit,” Sokka cleared his throat and freed one hand from it’s Zuko trap to paint the picture above them. Zuko barely turned his head enough to catch Sokka’s fantastical gestures. “I dreamt I was being chased by this loch ness monster looking thing. But, but like it was from pokemon.”

“I doubt you dreamed about Gyarados, Sokka.”

“There are other dragon type pokemon, _Zuko.”_

“You can tell me if it was a nightmare about my father, you know that right? I know you have them,” Sokka’s silence from below him was answer enough. But, the dropping of his arms to wrap tighter around Zuko did it as well. “I’m sorry I look like him.”

“You don’t look like Ozai, Z.”

_“Everyone says-”_

_“I’m not everyone,”_ Sokka reminded him with another kiss to his forehead. And another to his cheek. “You _know_ I’m not everyone.”

Zuko hummed a half assed acknowledgement, unable to convince himself to do something more. Sokka moved one arm cradling Zuko, leaving the other to pat around the bed that had no right to feel as big as it did until he found his phone and returned one earbud to his ear.

“God, am I that boring?” Zuko teased, before he accepted the second earbud. When the same piano and strings started up, the melody was instantly recognizable. “You son of a bitch.”

“What?” Sokka said, but he could hear the smile in his voice. “Just cause she’s your guilty pleasure, doesn’t mean she’s mine.”

“This is homophobic,” Zuko jeered. “This is a hate crime.”

Sokka laughed and brought his arms back around Zuko, burying his face in Zuko’s unruly hair. “I can change it if you-”

_“Keep it.”_

Sokka’s laughter died down to just a smile and another series of kisses. Kisses that went along the length of Zuko’s bicep which may have _accidentally_ settled there with the initial intention to shut him up. 

**_You don't ever have to be stronger than you really are_ **

**_When you're lying in my arms, baby_**

**_You don't ever have to go faster than your fastest pace_ **

**_Or faster than my fastest cars_ **

“Is this already on the-” Zuko didn’t even get the chance to finish his question before Sokka hummed into his arm, still kissing lazily.

“Yeah,” He mumbled. “Between _home with you by twigs_ and _home by edward sharpe.”_

“I feel like you’re trying to tell me something,” He meant it as a joke, but for a moment, the kisses stopped. “Sokka, I can hear you thinking.”

“Do you think I can give you a hickey here?” Sokka teased, testing his theory with a bite to the spot he had been working on.

“Are you asking for permission or are you asking if you could do it in theory?”

Sokka took another moment of thought, his kisses turned open-mouthed and a little more deliberate. Zuko tried to keep his heart rate under control as he craned his neck awkwardly to watch. “Both?”

_“Both?”_

“Yeah,” Sokka nodded into the skin, tested with another bite and swipe of his tongue over the spot. _“Both.”_

Zuko had been right about the beard burn. It was hard to tell in the dark, but Zuko could feel the aftermath of the spots Sokka’s lips were on a few seconds after he moved on. Could feel the skin growing warm with something between irritation and want. Could imagine the feeling back on his throat, or on his lips.

Sokka took a moment-long break from his little science experiment to bury his face into Zuko’s shoulder, keeping his momentum going but loosening his grip on Zuko’s back. He used that new found freedom to hike a leg over Sokka, caging his hips between his thighs.

Sokka pulled away from his spot on Zuko’s shoulder and just looked at him for a moment. Analyzing gazes following the line of his body as Zuko sat up a little straighter, letting his weight settle on Sokka’s lap. They were still a breath's width apart, and Zuko had to brace one arm on the side of Sokka’s head. His hand sinking a little into the bunch of blankets that had been pushed to the side. The white wire connecting them hung in the space between.

**_I shouldn't have done it, but I read it in your letter_ **

**_You said to a friend that you wish you were doing better_ **

**_I wanted to reach out, but I never said a thing_ **

Sokka adjusted a little beneath Zuko, his hands finding themselves scrambling beneath himself. Looking for purchase to sit up. It took another few moments until they were both upright fully, Sokka’s back pressed against the wicker headboard and his thumbs massaging circles into Zuko’s hips.

“Hey.” He said a little breathless, eyes darting anywhere and everywhere. To Zuko’s lips, the space between them, to his hands, to his eyes.

“Hi,” Zuko looked down at his right arm, examining the raised skin and the beginnings of red that looked like they’d shift to an unforgiving purple. There were more than he thought there would be, scattering the expanse of his bicep and down, most focused in the crook of his elbow. “Oh shit.”

“How’d I do?”

 _“How’d you do?”_ Zuko repeated before raising his arm into Sokka’s line of vision.

“Oh,” Sokka said, a half cocked smile melting into his expression. One eyebrow raised like he was admiring his work. _“Shit.”_

 _“Sokka-”_ Zuko meant it as a warning, but it must have came out more like a whine. It felt breathy leaving his throat and only got Sokka to laugh. Which wasn't a bad thing. He threw his head back, exposing the shadow of his adam’s apple and an expanse of skin. 

“In my defense,” Sokka said between chuckles, his hands running up and down Zuko’s spine. “I didn’t think it’d get that bad that fast.”

Zuko barely got a word in before Sokka surged forward again, ducking his head into Zuko’s neck. Large palms against Zuko’s ribs as he repeated the process on his throat.

Zuko rolled his head back, His loose hair brushing up against his shoulder blades again for the first time in a month. The feeling was odd and too familiar for the newness of everything else.

His eyes fluttered closed as Sokka continued. Pulling him closer, rolling his hips, biting and kissing like he had planned every move. Zuko’s veins felt like they were pumped full of molasses and his heart hammered in his chest, pressed hard against Sokka’s.

Sokka’s hair knotting with the gripping and releasing of Zuko’s fingers. Sokka’s pleasant hums reverberating through Zuko’s body, sending shivers up and down his spine. Sokka’s hands on his back, then his chest, then squeezing his thighs. Zuko cast his gaze down long enough to see tan hands skate along his skin, underneath the gray nylon of the shorts, before disappearing behind him. His eyes closing tight again when he felt two large hands coasting up his ass and squeezing.

Zuko nodded so hard that his bangs fell back into his eyes. He wasn’t even sure why he was nodding. _Permission? If he could do it in theory?_

**_You're scared to win, scared to lose_ **

**_I've heard the war was over if you really choose_ **

**_The one in and around you_ **

Whatever it was, Sokka got the message. He laughed into Zuko’s throat, his intention rising ever so slightly to reach his jaw again. Nosing into his hairline, kissing up his ear, reaching a hand back into Zuko’s hair, hands tangling in just enough to have control but not enough to cause concern. It felt more like a cradle than a grip. And then he turned Zuko’s head towards him. 

Sokka’s eyes were blown, his pupils taking up more space than the ring of blue surrounding it. His lips were red and wet. Zuko breathed in a way that could have been mistaken as a chuckle. Or he chuckled in a way that could be confused with a stuttered breath. He let one hand slip from Sokka’s hair and let it coast down his chest. Stopping so he could run a thumb along the line of his collarbone.

He felt a little lightheaded, head spinning from the heat and the closeness. That lack of control made the whine slip out a little louder than he had hoped it would when Sokka removed his hand from Zuko’s scalp.

“You okay?” Sokka's voice was low, he reached up and cradled Zuko’s face in his hands and swiped his bangs from his eyes.

By all means, Zuko was fine. His skin tingled, Sokka’s hands cooled down the trails of heat that his mouth had left behind. Zuko was fine, but he wasn’t sure if he was entirely okay.

“Are you?” He said instead, and by Sokka’s twisted expression, he wasn’t exactly okay either.

“I’ve been worse,” Sokka admitted after a moment. “I have been _a lot_ worse.”

“Can I kiss you?” _They had been kissing._ “Really, I mean.” _As if any of that was any less real._

“Should you?” He asked. “I want you to.”

**_Oh, I'll pick you up_ **

**_If you come back to America, just hit me up_ **

The song faded into silence only to pick back up again a moment later. Sokka had looped it. Of course he had looped it. Because he thought ahead where Zuko didn’t. And he was the one to stop it when it got farther. Because he knew the consequences and actually acknowledged them.

Four swift knocks from the wall adjacent to them got them to part fully. Zuko on his back, propped up only by his elbows, eyes cast toward the door connecting the two rooms. And Sokka swinging his legs over the side of the bed, hunched over himself.

“What?!” He called back, raising his voice more than he probably had to. “I’m sleeping!”

“Okay first off, you were the one who wanted to leave early!” Katara’s voice called back, only snapping both of them back into reality quickly. Zuko scrambled off the bed, hoping his almost crash landing on the carpeted floor didn’t quite carry to the opposite side of the room. Sokka’s was impressively less graceful, as he shot up from the bed and stumbled over his own feet until he made it to his bag in the corner. Quickly digging through for a shirt for each of them.

“I can be asleep and _basically ready to go_ at the same time!” Sokka sputtered back, a little frantic before he tossed the Nome t-shirt from the countless days before Zuko’s way. And pulling on a nondescript plain jersey blue shirt for himself. He dug a little deeper and pulled out a baseball cap and two cloth hair ties. “Just give me a minute!”

“That’s not even the issue,” Katara sighed. Zuko could practically see Katara’s hands on her hips, gaze turned downward in a showy act of disappointment. He pulled the t-shirt over his head and braced himself for the launch of a rubber band from the other side of the room. With a stunning amount of accuracy, the slingshotted hair tie landed by his knee. If Zuko had more than a half second to process it, he’s certain he would have caught it. He hastily parted his hair and brushed his bangs down with his hands without a mirror in an attempt at retconning Sokka’s fingers in his hair. “Zuko’s room was empty and the door was unlocked when we checked on him so-”

They both winced despite _everything._ “I’m here!” Zuko called back. “I’m in here, it’s fine.”

 _“Oh,”_ Katara’s entire demeanor shifted and Zuko caught the way Sokka rolled his eyes. Or rather rolled his whole being as he stood up only to drop his head back with eyes closed and shake his head like he was cursing anyone who was listening. “The whole night?”

“It wasn’t the whole night.” Sokka insisted as he turned his baseball cap backwards and dug through his bag only to pull out spray deodorant. He did a quick spritz and tossed it to Zuko, who actually caught it that time and did the same before tossing it back.

“Yeah,” Zuko tagged on, finally standing up and meeting with Sokka halfway across the room. “You guys were all in my room for at least half of it.”

 _“You weren’t even in your room half the night, Sparky!”_ Toph called from somewhere behind the door, only to get laughs from Aang and a scoff from Katara in response. 

Zuko reached for the doorknob, but Sokka’s hand wrapping around his wrist stopped him in his tracks.

“What?” Zuko asked, as Sokka stepped around him.

“Just like, _two seconds._ Your shit’s messed up,” Sokka reached out, beginning to fix Zuko’s hair. His tongue peeking out between his lips in focus as he carded through his overgrown bangs and pushed them to either side. By the time he was done, his hands drifted down to cupping Zuko’s jaw in his hands. His eyes assessed the details until his eye landed on a particular spot, or several spots, when he tilted is head up and to the left. “Uh, baby?”

Zuko didn't trust that tone, it sounded like Sokka was only being apologetic on principle, but was actually about to laugh at something. “What’s up?” He asked as Sokka titled his head up by the chin just a little higher.

“I mean this with all the lo…” Sokka halted himself. “All the _friendly admiration_ in the world. But my yankees sweatshirt is at the top of my bag. I’mma need you to put it on so Katara doesn’t kill us. Only _mildly_ maim.”

Suddenly the expression made much more sense. Zuko felt his shoulders droop. “How bad are they?”

“Uh… honestly?” The corners of Sokka’s lips quirked up. “I’ve kinda outdone myself.”

_"Sokka..."_

_"Baby?._

Zuko tried to be angry, he really did. Only relenting at the fifth and sixth rapping of knuckles against the wood door as Sokka pulled away from him to admonish the others. "You know I wouldn't just burst in and-"

"That's exactly what you _would_ do, Sokka!" Katara cut in. "I'm giving you sixty seconds to get your act together."

He was certain Sokka said something after that. Something about how she had imagined a much more interesting scenario than what happened. They had just talked. They had just gotten carried away.

Zuko almost laughed at that as he caught himself in the bathroom mirror as he knelt down with the attention of digging for the sweatshirt. _They had just gotten carried away._

The darkest of the bruises were on his arm, still a little warm and tender with the spots of raised skin. Most of them were a splottchy red while that went purple the closer to the center that one got. Which was simple enough. It could have been explained away without much worry. But the ones littering up his neck and onto his jaw? Centralising themselves at two specific points of the curve of his throat on the right side and the dip right below his adam's apple. Leaving tracks of red up and down his throat not near as dark as the others on his arm. Just proving that maybe Sokka hadn't exactly planned _that_ far.

If Sokka was right about already outdoing himself, Zuko couldn't help but wonder what could be done with more time. He pulled the sweatshirt over his head, breaking his connection with his own reflection as seeing himself like that because of Sokka was doing a few _too many_ things to him. 

Sokka waited until Zuko was halfway across the room on his way back to the adjoining door before he finally unlocked it, swinging it open and leaning his weight against it.

“See?” Sokka insisted, gesturing over his shoulder as Zuko took the final few steps to be back beside Sokka. “Zuko. _All in one piece.”_

Zuko did a little wave to prove Sokka's point and hoped the hoodie was at least doing a portion of it's job as he already began to push the sleeves back at the warmth.

“It wasn’t him who I was worried about.” Katara insisted, folding her arms over her chest as she eyed the room behind them. 

“Oh, we’re back to hating me," Zuko teased, stuffing his hands in his pockets as Sokka went back to finish putting the last few items back into his bag. "I was worried a little when you were nice to me earlier.”

“I threatened to kill you.”

“You told me to talk to him.”

_“After I threatened you!”_

"We can talk about threats over breakfast!" Sokka intervened, throwing an arm over Zuko's shoulder and bracing a hand on his chest. The weight of his backpack hanging off of one shoulder doing nothing to slow him down.

"What's that on your hand?" Aang pointed out, walking into the doorframe, finding a space behind Katara where he could settle his hand on the small of her back. 

Sokka flipped his left hand up and the two of them looked it over, remembering Zuko's quick scrawl in the middle of the talk with Uncle last night.

"We can talk threats over _laundry,"_ Sokka corrected, dropping his hand back down onto Zuko's shoulder. "But breakfast is still priority number one."

There was a moment of time that lasted a little too long for Zuko's liking. Or just long enough. Or not long at all. The others had walked to the other side of their room, holding some conversation about returning keys and remembering to grab Zuko's stuff from his room. A conversation he should have been privy to. But he was distracted.

Understandably so.

He watched as Sokka leaned agains the wall right beside the door. The one plain of drywall and woodstuds seperating them from the rest of the group. He looked down at his phone, legs crossed at the ankle, brows knit with how engrossed he was with whatever it was he had been paying attention to. It was nothing particularly remarkable, but it was Sokka. Just Sokka.

His feet were carrying him to Sokka's space before he even realized it, only recognizing his intention as Sokka looked up. Blue eyes carrying some level and intrigue and interest. A joke playing on the tip of his tongue before all of that melted away into shock when Zuko cupped the back of his neck and pulled him in. 

The kiss lasted no longer than a second. All wide eyed and quickened heartbeats before it was over. For a moment, Sokka was frozen. Mouth open in shock but some level of a terrified fondness in his eyes. The same look as someone would have after walking off of a rollercoaster. Still reeling off the thrill despite the major feeling being-

"-mortified," Zuko said aloud, surprised that he even did so without pulling away. He was scared he had done the wrong thing. "You look mortified."

Suddenly there were arms wrapped around his waist and lips on his again. Zuko brought his hands up ever so slightly with the force, knocking Sokka's hat off kilter. For a moment, they lingered. Lips on lips. Touching, holding, feeling. Breathing in deep through the nose and humming the breath out into the kiss. Zuko shifted to lick along the seam of Sokka's lips, an act he barely managed before he was invited in. Starting the cycle over. Touching, holding, feeling, breathing.

 _Oh God._ Zuko thought as the second kiss turned into a third and forth. Sokka's hands balling the extra fleece near his spine and Zuko biting the bullet and using one hand to get rid of the pesky hat completely. Leaving the other to skirt down the back of his head to settle on his neck. _Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?_

 _"Hey Slowpokes!"_ Toph's jeering barely made Sokka break the connection. He pulled away, kept his hands on Zuko's waist, gripping for purchase through the sweatshirt. Zuko kept his arms wrapped around Sokka's neck, keeping them close enough so there foreheads could touch. A few more seconds. Make it last a few more seconds. _"We'll leave without you!"_

A mutual half time was called in their game. Their "relationship." Their _and a half._

They separated. Took each other in like it was the first time again.

_Is this what it's supposed to feel like?_

**_-_**

“Coffee doesn’t count as lunch,” Zuko looked up from the third pair of jeans tossed haphazardly into the industrial sized washer to see the swirling brown and green designs of a styrofoam cup. “But I got you some anyway.”

It took another second for the strong scent to reach his nose as he made a grab for the cup. “So you _are_ avoiding this.”

Zuko heard a noncommittal hum as his space suddenly became warmer. Arms heated from his escape into the outside world wrapped around Zuko’s torso as he pressed a kiss to the back of Zuko’s neck. His skin already cool with the chill of the fans circling above them. “I’m not avoiding anything.”

“Oh really?”

“Nope.”

“This isn’t you distracting me?”

“I would never.”

“So you’ll help separate the clothes?”

Sokka pulled away with a wince, just enough so that Zuko could see him over his shoulder. His hands only pulled away from Zuko’s hips a moment later. “Why don’t we just dump them all in one and see what happens?”

Katara scoffed from the other side of the metal table, refusing to break her focus with a hole she worked to patch in a pair of Aang’s cargo shorts. “That’s the kind of attitude that gets all your whites turned pink, Sokka.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” He challenged, grabbing hold of a laundry cart by the top beam of metal, connecting the two poles together. He swung himself around so that most of his weight was balanced on the wheeled buggy instead of draping himself on Zuko. “I could rock the all pink look.”

They made it from Guatemala to San Salvador in a little over five hours, Zuko driving the whole way. Breakfast had been a heavy mix of a large portion of scrambled eggs, sausage, black beans, tortillas, and slices of fried plantains. Sokka finished the majority of Zuko’s plate for him, insisting that he was a growing boy when Zuko took a little too much time poking at it absently with a fork.

Because Sokka knew and was good at distractions and made the connection of how Zuko handled things faster than anyone else in his life ever had.

He had reached over and snatched a plantain off of his plate, and kissed him on the cheek. A mumbled _“You’ll be okay.”_ before lips met skin.

He complained about their dwindling snack pile as he dug through the cabinet, first handing a cliff bar to Zuko and then claiming one for himself. When he clambered his way back into the front seat he reached across and opened the granola bar for him. Sokka had run his fingers along Zuko’s knuckles on the steering wheel until his grip lessened. Kept doing it until Zuko let go completely and pressed the snack into his hand. Waited until Zuko took a bite until he began his own.

The hot coffee on an even hotter day as the chill of the air conditioning units mounted on the walls mingled with the air generated from the fans, causing goosebumps to appear along the skin that wasn’t hidden in a Yankees sweatshirt or wasn’t warm on the principle of the capillaries burst underneath. Or rather, the heat that tugged at Zuko’s entire being everytime he remembered them underneath the thin fleece.

Or. even how they had kissed. Effectively breaking the last barrier of feigned platonicism. Sokka thought better than to bring it up again, instead choosing to keep it to the touches they had already established as _‘game.’_ Because he knew that if Zuko could barely eat, there was no way he could get the _What Are We_ talk out. They had barely gotten the _Why We Can’t_ and _What the Fuck Are We Doing_ talks either before spilling too much and kissing a little too hard. There were just too many emotions in the abstract. His head could only handle one challenge at a time. Which was why Zuko thought it best to bury the thoughts of the case in cool lips and a surprising amount of bruises littered along skin.

Or rather, Sokka thought it best, because he was beginning to know the intricacies of Zuko more than Zuko knew himself. Because Sokka studied him whenever he wasn’t (or was) looking. And honestly, it was a little flattering. Suffocating, but flattering. Terrifying, but flattering.

So, Zuko accepted the coffee. A dark roast that sent a buzz to his brain the moment it touched his lips. He looked over just in time to catch the others grab their respective drinks from the drink holder Sokka must have brought in. Sitting right beside a small pill bluetooth speaker between two piles of their commingled dirty clothes. The gentle buzzing of the speaker trying to be heard over the swirling fans and the encompassing aircon units did just enough to distract him from the time. And if the music didn’t, then it was Sokka’s witty fast paced commentary on every little thing that happened, Toph’s teasing jeers how she cuold practically feel Zuko’s heart eyes (he thought he was being subtle but whatever) or Aang and Katara’s background conversation on the morality of single use dryer sheets that did.

It was easiest to feign normalcy when Zuko had no idea what time it was and had no intention of asking. He was supposed to be expecting _the call_ at 1 pm EST. Noon where they were. The only signal that he hadn’t missed it was Aang’s repetitive time checks to his own phone or squinting in an attempt to read the too small analog clock overtop the front desk.

What made it easier, was Sokka. To circle back around in so few words, that’s just about all Zuko’s brain was capable of doing. Like the kiss had short circuited some executive function that Zuko had managed before. Like a dam broke and his brain was overflowing with all the things he had tucked away privately that he would think in passive moments, knowing they weren’t going to happen. Zuko’s thoughts would wander to the case before his brain would supply him with the way Sokka’s mouth feels on his skin. Zuko’s thoughts would find their way to Jet and his entire relationship before it would morph back into how Sokka’s laugh was unhinged and had no cares behind it. Zuko’s thoughts would drift to the night of the burn, trying to parse the order of events so his voice wouldn’t falter if they began to ask anything. Only to then think about how ready and accepting and on his side Sokka was.

_Outlasting._

He had never thought about it like that before.

Maybe the plan guy himself was onto something with that one.

And then of course there was the issue of how his mind went silent aside from _‘Oh God. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?’_ Zuko didn’t even know what _it_ was. He couldn’t place the feeling aside from being somewhere between buzzing happiness and a wash of calm. The same feeling that overwhelmed him in Sokka’s backyard while looking at the stars through clouds. Grass clinging to their skin and smoke circling above them.

It probably wasn’t the best to compare whatever it was to feeling high, but that was all he could do. It was the easiest way for him to pick through the feeling and find out it’s details. Zuko knew he felt a lot, too much, Mai had told him so at one point. Fuck, most people told him so. And he knew they meant it with care, at least some did, he knew that feeling was something he was allowed to do. Feeling wasn’t something he was ashamed of.

It was just _this_ feeling in particular that he couldn’t figure out.

“Dance with me.” Sokka’s request pulled Zuko out of his own thoughts.

He barely got the chance to sit the still steaming styrofoam down before Sokka’s hands were clasped with his. “Why?”

Sokka pulled him in a little closer, their knees bumping together. “This is, like, the quintessential couple song and I need to show them we’re better.”

“Not _technically_ a couple.” Zuko reminded him, trying to recognize the whistling pattern emitting from the small speaker.

“It’s not like they are either,” Sokka gestured back at Katara and Aang behind him. The two of them laughing and attempting some sort of swing dance move. Katara was looking down at her feet as they pulled back and in, back and in. Aang only had eyes for her. Toph added an extra beat with rhythmic drumming on the metal table she sat atop of. “C’mon, baby. Be my boyfriend for like _five minutes._ I need someone to sing along with and I love Toph. But, _come on.”_

There’s that feeling again. It buzzed along with the brass as it entered underneath the whistles. The gentle guitar and stomping in the background carrying the rest of the beat. His heart felt like it was shooting into his throat as Sokka pressed their foreheads together, a smile taking up the majority of his face as he sang along _“Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my Ma and Pa. Not the way that I do love_ _you._ _”_

Zuko recognized it. It was what flanked California last night. Home with you, California, Home.

_I feel like you’re trying to tell me something._

He accepted the proposal of a dance with only minor complaining as Sokka pulled him forward and back, in a stunning recreation of Katara and Aang’s swing steps with somehow more complexity and more fumbling through it.

“We’re being obnoxious,” Zuko laughed somewhere between the second and third swing. “We’re the asshole customers.”

“It’s not like anyone else is here.” Sokka chided him as he made a poor excuse for a turn, lifting his arm up so Zuko could spin underneath.

And, Sokka was right, even the woman who had lounged near the display glass registers near the back of the store had even waved them off with a smile and took what looked to be her well deserved break.

**_Man, oh, man, you're my best friend, I scream it to the nothingness_ **

**_There ain't nothing that I need_ **

There was no fluidity to the movements. There was more stumbling and folding over with laughs while mumbling over lyrics Zuko only half knew than genuine steps. He was sure that a traditional bow tie step where their arms would go over their head and bring them back down over each other’s shoulders so their arms made an ‘X’ in the middle was supposed to end with a smooth triplet. Just based on his near nonexistent understanding of the genre. Or simply Katara repeating how the step is supposed to be done while Aang fumbled it. But with Sokka and Zuko it ended with another stumble, more laughing that made his chest ache and his face heat up. The buzz of happiness and calm and perfection spreading out from his chest to his arms and legs. Sokka pulled him in close again, their hands clasped together in the space between them, and he just looked. Just looked down at Zuko with that dopey grin and obscenely perfect eyes.

**_I'll follow you into the park, through the jungle, through the dark_ **

**_Girl, I never loved one like you_ **

Any other time, Zuko would have noticed it faster.

The bell on the door signaled the entrance of another patron, which only barely suspended their impromptu dance party. Katara, Aang and Toph kept to themselves. Trying triplets again within the squares of tile below their feet because Katara swore she knew how to at one point, so she should still be good.

But Sokka noticed something Zuko didn’t, and pulled him to face the machine. Watching as the dark clothes that actually managed to make it in before Sokka interrupted swirled around in soapy circles against the fogged glass and dulled metal.

“He’s back.” Sokka said it like an apology, his attention overtaken by something right outside the windows.

Zuko barely needed to follow his line of sight before he knew. The silver range rover took the spot right next to their van in the parking lot in front of the building. The driver’s side was empty. Zuko turned his head back to the inside, just enough to see the man who he had seen driving it the night before using the machine to get coins out.

“I’ve noticed,” Zuko whispered, burying his face into the crook of Sokka’s neck, hoping he could hide away in his own mind again. Hoping that the distraction would kick in soon enough. The pleasant buzz still sat somewhere behind his ribs, but the anxiety building up in his shoulders was beginning to make his hands tremor. He tightened them in a fist and released them a few times, testing his control. Before he could do it again, Sokka grabbed his hand and gave a comforting squeeze. “What time is it?”

Sokka glanced up at the wall clock. “Quarter to two.”

Zuko squeezed a little tighter and didn’t lift his head. “Okay.”

“Shit, your thing was at noon, wasn’t it?” Sokka pulled away just enough to look Zuko in the eyes. He almost whined at the loss of contact. “Did I miss it. _Fuck._ Baby, I’m sorry if I-”

“No.” Zuko cut him off. “I didn’t get a call.”

“What?”

“Nobody called,” Zuko reiterated. “I should have gotten a call. It should have been over by now.”

“Maybe they’re running late?” Sokka offered, letting go of Zuko’s hand in favor of stepping in close again. Their shoulders brushed against each other before Zuko went back to his spot. He pressed a kiss to the exposed skin on Sokka’s shoulder before dropping his head onto the muscle and bone. “Maybe Iroh wanted to get snacks first or something. Maybe Ozai flaked because he knew he’d lose.”

_“Maybe.”_

“Or, better idea,” Sokka began. “They had so much shit against him that he was arrested as soon as he was seen in the same block of the courthouse. He’s on his way to some shitty county jail right now and he never gets the satisfaction of being the one to cause you pain ever again.”

“A guy can dream.” Zuko mumbled before lifting his head again, just enough to see that the man still stood by the machine.

**_Laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night_ **

**_Never could be sweeter than with you_ **  
  
The banter was more nice than familiar. Familiar had turned itself into lingering touches and chaste presses of lips to skin. The hands. The scalp. Safe spaces. The kind of kisses that Sokka would exchange with his sister’s head when she was feeling stressed and the kind that Aang would charge Zuko’s unscarred cheek with when something exciting happened. Even lips on lips was a hurdle they had bounded, but using that for comfort in the moment would have felt wrong too. It was too new and weirdly fragile while simultaneously feeling like they had done it forever. But the hands belonged to them. It was theirs. Only theirs. Sokka grabbed hold of Zuko’s hand with his outer arm, pulling it across his chest to press kisses on each individual knuckle.

“Maybe he’ll die in prison,” Sokka said between kisses. “Or if he does get out before he kicks it, that he sees how much better you are without him.”

“Am I a bad son if I say I hope he dies on the way to the courthouse?” Zuko admitted.

"No. He's just a bad father."

**_And in the streets you run a free, like it's only you and me_ **

**_Geeze, you're something to see_ **

The banter was invited, but it was the fingers skating his ribs that was conventional. Sokka’s hand between them skirted along his back and pulled him in just that much closer. Zuko put his hand over top Sokka’s. He could feel the way his ribs expanded and contracted with each breath. The buzzy warmth spread to his hands and his ribs as the man walked past them, only offering them a small glare in response. One to which Sokka responded by abandoning the kisses trailing up Zuko’s hand to shoot him a mock two finger salute.

Zuko didn’t pull away once the door jingled, signaling the man’s exit. Didn’t pull away when the SUV pulled out from the lot either. His eyes peering through the window like he would shatter the glass with just his mind.

Just weeks ago, Zuko was worried that he would start craving Sokka’s touch like he craved air.

No, he was worried that _Sokka_ would crave his touch. That _Sokka_ would need the attention that Zuko couldn’t provide. Like a pet. Like a dog. Like someone who had left their cat to go to work while the cat chose to bask in the sunny spots their owner would usually stay in. Existing in a space that they once held. Like they missed them and needed them, but wouldn’t fess up to it.

Sokka bumped his shoulder good-naturedly, a hand still around his waist protectively as they watched out the window just in case the car would come back. “You good, baby?”

**_Oh, home, let me come home_ **

**_Home is whenever I'm with you_ **

_Oh, fuck me._

_Fuck. Fucking shit. No. No. What the fuck is wrong with me. Holy shit. What the fuck. What the fuck_ ?! _I’m the fucking pet. I’m the fucking pet!_

“Uh…” Zuko sputtered. “I just realized something is all.”

“Oh, really?” Sokka asked, genuine interest pouring out of his tone. “What?”

_I feel like I’m relearning how to breathe and I’m starting to catalog the little things about you. Like how your nose ring is always a little crooked and how you sprawl when you sleep. And how you listen to lyrics more than the music. And how you put your heart into things and hide the deep shit by laughing it off. And how when your smile doesn’t reach your eyes it means you're close to tears but you’re stronger than letting them fall unless no one is around to see it. Or how I was so fucking right about how we shouldn’t have gone this far._

_You’re home for me. I don’t think I’ll ever be home for you._

Zuko didn’t get the chance to answer before Aang stormed out the building. Sputtered out sobs and half formed sentences barely leaving his lips as he held his phone to his ear. Katara’s eyes looked lost, like her whole world just froze in the midst of it shattering. She held onto Toph’s wrist who was making an attempt to follow Aang outside.

“Kat?” Sokka barely broke the chain their bodies made before Zuko made a beeline for the door. The following “Katara, what happened?” muffled by the sound of wind chimes and Aang’s heavy breaths.

“Aang?” Zuko barely got out as he knelt in front of the younger teen before he shoved the phone to Zuko’s chest and dropped his head to his knees. The sobbing had stopped, or at least halted, but his breaths were still ragged, shaking his back. “What ha-”

“Iroh…” Zuko felt his heart stop as Aang forced a steadier breath into his lungs. “Iroh wants to talk to you.”

The wash of relief hardly had the time to start before terror edged itself back into his bones. Iroh had called Aang instead of him. Zuko never got the call to testify. They were hours behind schedule. Aang was sobbing.

Zuko pressed the phone to his good ear, holding it between his shoulder and head as he braced himself on Aang’s shoulders. “Uncle? What happened? Why’d it take you so long to call? Why didn’t you call me? Why-”

“Zuko?” Iroh warned. His voice sounded tired, farther away. Zuko could make out a bustling discussion happening around him. There were the sound of children speaking over each other and adult voices shushing them. “I’m afraid we will have to put your case on hold for the time being.”

“Oh?” Zuko didn’t trust that. “Why?”

“Are you still near Aang?”

“Yeah, he’s in front of me.”

“Walk away.”

Zuko’s hands froze on Aang’s shoulders for a moment before adjusting his stance, shifting his weight to more of a kneeling position and actually holding the phone up to his ear with his hand. “Why?”

“I don’t think he needs to hear this again.”

Just as Zuko stood up, the others rushed out. Katara made it to him first, kneeling down beside him and mumbling something that Zuko couldn’t quite make out due to the blood pumping in his ears. Sokka and Toph followed soon after, sitting on the curb beside him and matching her comforting tone.

_“It’s okay, Aang.”_

_“You still have us.”_

_“We’re your family now, it’s okay.”_

_“We’re with you no matter what.”_

Zuko could infer enough from that. “Uncle?” He asked, rounding the corner of the building until he was out of sight. “Did Gyatso di-”

“Yes,” Iroh interrupted, his voice strained. “Yes, he has but-”

“I'm so sorry.” Zuko said, unsure who he was even apologizing too at the moment. It just felt like the right thing to say. 

“There was an accident on the way to represent you,” Zuko went to apologize again and again and again. Mumbled sorries poured out off breath as if that would make it better. As if it would return a father figure to a teenager and solve his case. As if an apology was good enough to make it stop. "Zuko?"

"What?"

"Were you listening?" Zuko kept his apology down and managed a noncommittal hum instead. Iroh's voice shook with a type of grief that Zuko knew Uncle was capeable of, but not to be used for a man he hardly knew. The two were friends, of course they were friends. But they're friendship was based on Iroh's inability to be inhospitable and Gyatso's way of life. "Are you still-"

"What part of this am I missing?" Zuko asked. "spit it out, I'm listening."

"It was _your_ car."

**_-_**

It took twenty-four hours straight to get to Panama. Zuko drove four of them with Toph by his side with the siblings and Aang behind him before the phone calls became too much.

_“No, I’m not in the state.”_

_“Yeah, technically it is a stolen vehicle but I’m not the one who stole it. It’s mine. It’s a gift.”_

_“It’s just Zuko Hiranuma you guys have seen my information already, I don’t know why you-”_

_“No, I’m not in the state.”_

_“I don’t have to disclose my location.”_

_“Yes, I am aware the car isn’t mine. It’s my mother’s. Ursa Roku or… Hiranuma, probably? It should be under Ursa Hiranuma.”_

_“No I wasn’t at the case, nor was I expected to be there.”_

_“Does my… does my father know where I am? Why would you ask that? It doesn’t matter that he-”_

_“Can I please talk to someone competent? Please? I’m not above begging at this point.”_

Then they shift, Aang takes the wheel, Toph beside him. Katara sat with her back against the driver’s seat more than half of the time. The other portion was leaning in between the two, holding onto Aang’s hand, touching his arm, offering a comforting nudge to his elbow. Anything she could do to help in silence while Toph talked. Toph could go on about anything, and she did. Random moments about her life, random things she had accomplished or things she planned on doing as soon as the trip was over. Because Toph could always move forward and had things to say and didn’t do well sitting in her own misery.

Zuko found himself in Sokka's arms again. Not like he had before when he was sick or even in bed the night before where tensions were high and they just had buzzing energy they just needed to get out. They just needed to be heard and felt and understood.

This wasn’t that.

Zuko was tired. Sokka was probably no better because he was too empathetic towards Zuko and Zuko felt things too fully and Sokka deserved someone without a care in the world.

Zuko did let himself be held, though. For hours. Hours that felt like minutes with the gentle rise and fall of Sokka’s chest and his breath warm on Zuko’s forehead. Zuko’s hand sprawled across a plane of Sokka’s broad chest, their legs not tangled together, just pressed very close. Zuko wanted to say he slept. He wanted to because he was exhausted and there were periods of time when time felt condensed and sped through meaning he had to have slept at least some of it. But then the moments immediately after those had time moving through quick sand. He would count the theoretical seconds between each of his own breaths and compare them with Sokka’s slow but steady ones. His heart rate in double time compared to the rest of the world in those moments.

Fifteen hours and Aang still held the wheel in a white knuckle grip. Zuko could see that his eyes were bloodshot, and his voice wavered, but he had almost turned back into himself. A shell of himself. But at least something Aang-adjacent.

Katara and Toph traded spaces, the sun beginning to set low in the sky and Toph’s own suggestion of having someone who could see if Aang was to drive through the night.

She used the same reasoning to keep Zuko from getting up from his spot to go to the passenger’s side. Which was for the best. Zuko would have apologized again. He would have told him Gyatso shouldn’t have tried to represent him and that Aang shouldn’t have sent pictures and that they shouldn’t have left. And if they did leave anyway, they shouldn’t have taken Zuko with them. But, that was exactly why he couldn’t apologize again. Because if he apologized it would turn into reasoning and blame. Reasoning and blame that Zuko deserved, he deserved wholeheartedly and if none of his friends would fess up and say it, then he would think it himself.

He missed Mai and Ty Lee, he almost missed Azula. They were honest with him. They’d agree.

But no, he had to be stuck with the people who cried out “Family” and “Home” and “I love you’s” thrown like confetti anytime someone entered a room. 

It was spite. Zuko was spiteful. He was spiteful and he felt at home in Sokka’s arms. 

It stopped hurting twenty hours in.

Not that being a large part of the reasoning behind the loss of a friend’s parent would ever truly _not hurt._ All the times Katara would catch herself in the mirror, eyes darting down to the choker around her neck, and Sokka’s singular outburst came to mind. They already had nightmares, Aang probably did too. Only for them to get worse because Gyatso was kind enough to try and help someone who didn’t deserve helping.

Snooping around in places he had no concern.

The skeletal remains simply came with the family closet. There were bits that Zuko would never understand, he knew that. He accepted that. But, he just wished he didn’t have to be a part of that. Emancipation, that was his only goal. Emancipation, getting his sister out, getting himself out. 

It was starting to get a little too big for him. 

So he let Sokka lay across his lap and ramble on about nothing and everything because the weight of someone he cared about on top of him shrunk down his world just a little.

That was… _another thing._ He couldn’t quite compartmentalize the _L_ word yet. Even though he decided that Sokka was the embodiment of everything that the word _home_ was supposed to mean.

Twenty-four hours and they’d cleared enough distance to feel they deserved the break. Zuko didn’t want to say that it was nice. That all of them were antsy and shifting out of their seats with the need to run far and fast in any direction. It was just pleasant that the footing had become somewhat equal.

Equal in a way they didn’t deserve.

“Thank God this menu has pictures,” Sokka mumbled more to Zuko than anyone else. Trying to add a levity that even he was having difficulty managing. “Anything catching your eye, baby? I might just get street tacos.”

“I’m not hungry.” Zuko mumbled, but pulled his chair closer to Sokka anyway. As if they needed more shared space. As if Aang didn’t have his hand permanently glued into Katara’s or how Toph kept kicking both of their shins under the table. Just silent ways to communicate that they were almost okay. And if they weren’t, they would be eventually. There would be better days.

“I’d get four tacos, you can have two of mine,” Sokka bartered. “I’ll even let you make them spicy and I’ll just have to prepare for the emotional toll.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

“Sokka is letting you eat of his plate, Sparky,” Toph teased, although her demeanor shifted into something Zuko couldn’t quite place. “That’s gotta be some sort of marriage proposal in his book..”

He could feel Sokka’s breath catch, meaning Sokka probably felt his as well. “I’ll have to respectfully decline,” Zuko said instead, turning to face Sokka. Their legs still bumping against each other underneath the wood table, his blue eyes catching the warm lights around them. “Especially since I didn't get a ring first.”

Something got tighter in Sokka’s chest, his hand gripping Zuko’s a little tighter. “I _have_ a ring.”

_“What?”_

“It’s snow obsidian. I think I mentioned it before," Sokka added quickly, as of that was the problem. "It was only twenty bucks, I didn’t even pay for it but-”

“No,” Katara cut in, leaning slightly forward in her chair like she was challenging Sokka's rash decision. Something in her tone bordering on hilarity. Like it was a joke that Sokka pushed too far. _“It’s Yue’s.”_

 _"Yeah, I know."_ Sokka bit back, not looking to explain himself further. Zuko thought better to ask. Katara had said Zuko had reminded Sokka of this... _Yue._ He wasn't sure if it was supposed to feel like a good thing because if he was honest with himself it didn't. 

The ring discussion dropped with a harsher than necessary adjustment of the wooden seat, scratching against the cement floor and Sokka changing their order. _Draping his arm over Zuko's shoulder. Changing their order again. Looking out the window. Adjusting in his seat. Changing the order back to four tacos. Slipping from his shoulders to a clasp beneath the table. Looking out the window. Adjusting. Window. Hand to thigh._

"Are you okay?" Zuko broke the cycle.

"Hm?" Sokka raised an eyebrow in a vague act of acknowledgement. "Are you?"

"Almost."

"Yeah," Sokka nodded. _Thigh to hand. Looking out the window. Looking back._ "Almost."

Almost okay was eating in silence. They had run out of things to say. Almost okay was remembering that the gap was coming up. There would be no roads to drive across the last edges of Central America into the South. Almost okay was realizing they had to A) _find a place to stay_ B) _Get the van across somehow and_ C) _Fake it until it stops hurting._

Almost okay was Aang befriending the first person he saw after going out with Katara to take a breather. Zuko was impressed by Sokka's self control at not making a joke geared towards them, but it was fine because Toph took the reigns. Something about how she was just happy she got her own bed that night. Lots of sweeties. Lots of cuddling.

Something surprisingly innocent and a little bit too similar.

Zuko would have to remember to check up on Aang as soon as he'd be able to do it without mumbled apologies sandwiched between instances that they shouldn't have tried to help in the first place.

_Outlast._

"This is Haru!" Aang practically dragged the poor guy too their table. Caught in between Katara and Aang with bright smiles and supposedly exciting news. This supposed Haru had long brown hair, pulled back into a low pony leaving some hair at the front to frame his face. The beginnings of a mustache and beard clinging to his face while his touristy green warn t-shirt hung loose off of his frame and was tucked into a pair of khaki board shorts. "He's from Singapore! He's really cool."

"Oh, no shit," Sokka played along, squeezing a little tighter underneath the table. "I've always wanted to go."

It seemed to be the right thing to say. Right enough to get more conversation. Learn more about the stranger. He was in Panama with his father _wwoofing._ Aang quickly explained that it was basically volunteering to go to different countries to do volunteer work on organic farms. A way to get immersed in culture. A way to feel like one was helping the community in a way that reminded them that they may be small but little things could help.

"This is exactly the sort of thing Gyatso wanted!"

 _Oh._ Sokka and Zuko shared a look. Katara shot a glaring warning. Toph picked at her food in front of her, already resigned to their fate. 

Zuko could practically hear the sirens running rampant in Sokka's mind. And if it wasn't for the sirens, then the nervous bouncing of his leg under the table would have done it. Fuck, Zuko could feel his hands start to shake too. 

Sokka knew, for a reason entirely different than Zuko's predicament put him in due to recent events, that they couldn't stay in one place too long. _Window. Reassuring smile. Window._

_It's the kid's trip._

"He sent me pictures of the farm and it's amazing!" Aang reached across the table, showing off the pictures and swiping through countless images of dark greens surrounding a larger home raised on stilts with slatted wood along the sides and decorative fabric in the windows. "They have this amazing permaculture setup. And they have some extra rooms and they could always use some help! We need a place to stay anyway, and it's not like Appa the Second is gonna make it to the other side in under a week anyway. This could be good for us as a family."

 _Family?_ That was a whole seperate concept Zuko had hoped wouldn't be brought into it. Zuko didn't deserve these people as his family. His family name was a large part of ruining these families. Ruining these lives. 

"Okay," Zuko interrupted the beginnings of Aang's thoughts on coffee bean farming. "How long will we be staying? Or... rather... uh... how long can we stay?"

"For you, as long as you want." Haru said tossing him a casual smile. From beneath the table, Sokka let go of his hand. 

"Sokka what-" Zuko began, turning his full attention back to the man beside him only for Sokka to put his elbows on the table, leaning out of Zuko's line of sight. Careful to avoid the plates stacked and pushed to the side.

"Not too long," Sokka warned. "Like a week. Two max. _So..."_

"Like I said, as long as you want." Haru barely spared a glance between the two before turning his attention back to Aang, hoping to pick up the coffee conversation.

Zuko slipped out for some air around the fifteen minute mark of the deep discussion on permaculture and irrigation systems. He was sure veganism was thrown in there and he was positive Aang didn't bother correcting Haru with admitting he was vegetarian and _not_ vegan. Katara sat beside him, following the flow of conversation. Nodding and interjecting at times. Chastising Toph for poorly times comments. Kicking at Sokka's shins when he said anything particularly pessimistic.

So yeah, fifteen minutes.

For a moment, Zuko wished he hadn't tucked the pack of marlboros away in the bottom of Sokka's bag. It would have given him a better excuse to find solace in the sticky warmth of a tropical summer as he finally succumbed to taking off the sweatshirt and tying it around his waist. If he had been smoking, he wouldn't have swiped through his phone in hopes of finding something to do with his hands. He wouldn't have reread texts or opened message he didn't notice had been sent.

_Two snapchats from🍃 💨 Avatar Aang_

_> > Hotman, I know i'll say it in the morning too but good luck on your case!!! Here's another tiktok of a duck that I think you'll like 😊_   
_> > This time to lana del rey i know you like her_

  
_Three snapchat from Sokka will Rock Ya_

_> > What time's your call thing?_

_noon <<  
might be later this sort of thing usually lags<<_

_> > Aight bet, I'll be there_   
_> > Quick question tho uh..._   
_> > No tea, idk how a coffee shop runs out of tea. Fair warning, i'm getting you coffee so don't be too shocked_

  
_Two snapchat from Toph Bae Long_

_> > I know you guys think you're being quiet but you're not holy shit we get it_   
_> > Glad to know you're doing better though LOL. Don't tell anyone I've ever showed kindness or I'll kick your ass._

_  
From: Gyatso_

_> > We've got that all under control, Zuko._  
 _> > Don't fret, things will get better for you _😄

It had felt real before. It hurt, of course it hurt. Zuko knew he had no right for it too hurt as much as it did. But it hurt. It ached somewhere deep just waiting to be released. It hurt in the same way that his loss hurt. The most recent or all the others. Walking out of a courthouse knowing he had failed again. Knowing that it was just an instance longer underneath his father's thumb. He was selfish and it hurt because _it didn't work._ He knew it wouldn't work. He knew the instant it was suggested. He knew the instant Aang told him he had to testify the next day. It was rushed and messy and so much bullshit for his benefit and it didn't _fucking work._

So it hurt. Not in the way it was supposed to. But it hurt.

An unknown phone number only made it worse. Reminding him of the earlier calls and the tens of explanations. Zuko leaned against the dark brick wall, mentally preparing himself to say the same thing. _This is Zuko Hiarnuma, yes it's my car, no I'm not in the country, no I won't give you an exact loca-_

_"Where are you?"_

Zuko had miscalculated. Gyatso's death wasn't what hurt. The text didn't ignite any lingering aches. The loss didn't take him by surprise. 

It was, despite everything, he couldn't get away.

"Father, why are you-"

"Where are you?" Ozai spoke again, his voice chillingly calm. The gentle sounds of fire crackling filled the empty silence between his pauses. Zuko could practically feel the heat emitting off of the dark metal fireplace in the corner of his office. Could nearly count the pens stood up in their display. Could almost see the dust motes that would fly in the few slivers of sunlight that creaked through simple curtains. Masking Ozai's office from the outside world. He was at home. The estate. And Zuko was not. "Answer my question."

"Dad, I didn't know about the case until yesterday. I wasn't even the one who filed. I wasn't going to appear-"

"Where?"

Zuko couldn't find an answer. Couldn't find cover. Couldn't find Sokka.

Didn't want to put Sokka through this.

Didn't want to put _any of them_ through it.

But fuck, he'd never felt like he _needed_ someone so badly when talking to his father before.

_One snapchat sent to Sokka will Rock Ya_

_come outside <<_

  
"I'll be back by September," Zuko lied, steeling his voice into some form of comfort. It was familiar, he should have been used to it. "I know I didn't tell you I was going to leave, but the least you can do is respect that I'm already gone."

"Zuko-"

"You don't need to know where I am."

"Yes I do."

"Why?"

"I'm your father," He could hear the shifting creak of the old leather desk chair as his father stood up. The crackling of the fire got louder. He spoke again, voice still ice cold and detached to the meaning. "I care about you."

Any other time. Any other time he would accept that at face value. He almost did then. Any other time he'd be hurt and sad because his father just openly lied again. Any other time he would have taken it, handled it, let it sit. His father cared in the same way one cared for an uneven step or misaligned utensil. He only cared because he was out of place.

"How could you say that?" Zuko found the courage to say. "What you've done was _horrible. Is horrible!"_

"What I've done?" Ozai challenged, raising his voice. _"What I've done?!"_

 _"To me!_ What you have done _to me!"_ Zuko fumed, his voice raising to the cusp of a shout. "To me. The people I care about. To Azula, to mom. I just don't get it. That's not what caring is, Ozai! You've never known what caring-"

"And you have?" He interrupted. "Zuko, my son-"

"Don't-"

"If you understood what caring meant, you'd tell me where you are," Zuko's breath stuttered out as the creak of oak scratched it's way through the receiver. "You'd tell me _yourself._ You'd tell me and the slate will be clean, Gyatso's untimely death given the best of lawyers. I should know, I'll provide them. You're friends can carry on with their little adventure. It was never them I wanted, I couldn't give less of a fuck about them. They're nothing to me. Less than nothing. I just want you _home,_ Zuko."

"I just..." Zuko shook his head, his chin dropping to his chest. "I just don't understand why you do this."

"Simple," Ozai sneered. "You remind me of your mother. Undeserving of the freedom she desperately wanted. Now look at her. Running just as far and fast from you as you run from me."

_Just like a door being ripped from it's hinges._

"If I tell you, you have to promise me whoever the fuck you sent to trail us will leave."

"Of course," Zuko could hear Ozai's smile through the phone. It took everything in his power not to hang up and throw his phone into on coming traffic and then himself. Zuko whispered the answer. "What was that?"

"Panama," Zuko said again. "We're outside San Miguelito. If... _If you'll let me_... I'll be back by end of August. September maybe."

"Now," Ozai hummed. "That wasn't difficult at all,was it Dragon?"

"You haven't called me that since I was fi-"

"Was it?"

"No," Zuko swallowed. Forcing the pain and the heaving and the sickness down at least a few more seconds. Sokka chose that moment to round to corner, and Zuko almost lost that composure he so desperately clung to. _"Not at all."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for Panic Attatck, Minor Character Death (I know what it looks like but I swear it's not Iroh I could never kill him), Nightmares, mentions of car accidents (in the vaguest way possible like it's a one scene thing really) and very minor emetophobia warning. It's more along the lines with icky nausea feelings because of anxiety.  
> Have a good one ya'll, sorry about the wait

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> You can find me on tumblr at [Beignetbenny on tumblr](https://beignetbenny.tumblr.com/) for more Zukka antics.


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